Realms
by Jeffrey Vasquez
Summary: A simple mistake in heaven, and three rather important young people are ripped from their proper places in time and space, to end up… Well, God knows, but he isn't saying! Adventure Ah! Megamisama Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon Ranma crossover.
1. Chapter 1

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Realms

A Fanfiction by Jeffrey Vasquez

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Heaven**

"What did you DO?"

Skuld didn't like the idea that Urd was yelling at her. It wasn't like it was her fault anyway. The bug that had appeared in the system had surprised her and made her drop her chocolate shake onto one of the relay stations.

The results were pretty obvious.

Now they were scrambling, amidst the claxons and wailing alarms, to ensure that, reality, as the universe knew it didn't buckle or fold in on itself. Urd had divided herself, and a score of Skuld's special helpers were online and working furiously to reroute the data into a secure backup.

Daddy was going to be really upset if they were forced to reboot again…

"Damnit!"

Okay…uhm, Urd cursing, while in Heaven no less, was a bad sign.

"What?"

"We lost three pivotal nodes!"

Skuld "eeped!"

It seemed the appropriate thing to do under the circumstances. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Pivotal nodes were centers of Change…emphasis on the capital "C". They were like…well…pivotal nodes. The best way that Skuld could describe their function was to liken it to a rock that is tossed into a pond.

When a node was born, all of reality felt it. When they died…all of reality felt it. Take a look at Jesus, Confucius, Ceasar, Arthur, Joan of Arc, and Elvis…not to mention Lennon, Norma Jean, and Spuds McKinze. When a node was born, something special was brought into the world – a power for change. Father liked to call this "Unlimited Potential". Toss in the concept of Free Agency and you have a really interesting setup.

A node, like any person, could swing one-way or the other on the great cosmic scales. Attila and Ghengis Khan demonstrated that fact quite well. But for the most part, nodes were benign – a heavenly gift to mankind. So when one died, they took with them their special something, leaving the world a little duller than it had been.

To lose three nodes at once…well, Skuld shivered…a lot.

"Are they dead?" The thought of how unbalanced things were about to become started to hit her.

Urd shook her head and bit her lip as she typed frantically.

"I've isolated them. I'm routing a new subroutine to contain them."

The young goddess whipped her brow and sighed. She didn't want to think what would happen if three nodes had suddenly up and died at the same time. The last time anything remotely similar happened, a man rose to power and wiped out six million souls.

"CRAP!" Skuld jumped at the vehemence in Urd's voice. At least she was trying to control her tongue this time. "SAOTOME! You stupid little S.O.B.! Get back here!"

Skuld winced and bit her lip as she scrambled over to look over her sister's shoulder. What she saw amazed her. As the Goddess of the future, Skuld could whip up new software in the blink of an eye, but this…this was out of her league. She had never seen anything like it before, and though she was loath to admit it, no one could make code dance like her big sister. This type of manipulation only came with years of experience. Urd lashed out on multiple levels of reality with every Law of Probability, every little loophole that she could possibly exploit to restrain the nodes from slipping out of their grasp.

"DAMN IT TSUKINO! Not you too!"

Skuld winced as demonic profanities screamed through the air. It was one thing to hear it on Midgard, but quite something else to hear it at the core of the Celestial Kingdom. Skuld just knew that Urd was going to get it this time. She grimaced internally, knowing that Urd wouldn't be alone in her punishment either.

"They're not in our Root any more! I've started a probability trace to check drives Alpha through Theta." Urd peeked at Skuld, who simply nodded and began aligning the new code.

"I'm initiating emergency protocol Morpheus." The Goddess of the Future sighed and bit her lip as she watched two profiles come online.

"The Sleepers are waking. Their dreams are coming online."

A pair of chimes sounded, marking the advent of two "Backup Nodes."

"Sakura's online." Skuld watched the data stream carefully. "The cards have been released. Rerouting the magical chaos from Juuban to compensate."

Urd nodded and watched her own monitor. "The Masaki kid's just released Ryoko. The book marks are in place."

Both goddesses slumped bonelessly into their chairs heaving a sigh of relief, yet neither could shake the feeling that they had missed something.

"Where did they end up?" Skuld asked after a moment of silence. It should be noted that Skuld, being who she is, tends to be really good at math. She went over the numbers in her head, and noticed that there was indeed something missing.

"Wait a minute…didn't you say that there were three nodes missing?"

Urd growled and began typing anew. As the World Ash mark VI spat out the requested information, her tanned skin went deathly pale.

"…oh damn…"

Skuld looked over her sister's shoulder and immediately burst into tears. They were going to blame this on her, she just knew it! And that wasn't the worst of it! How were they supposed to explain this to Belldandy? – Sorry 'nee-chan. I didn't mean to send your boyfriend to the ends of Creation. It was the Bug's fault. Really!"

Both Urd and Skuld heard a sniff from behind them, and slowly turned to face the bedraggled, tearful face of their sister. Skuld borrowed a few terms from Urd's earlier harangue – it seemed entirely appropriate considering the circumstances. Belldandy wasn't supposed to come home like this!

Urd cursed again and went back to work, followed closely by the other two. A third sleeper was awakened, causing all three sisters to shiver. Hopefully Naru would keep that Keitaro kid on track, at least until the original nodes were back in their rightful places. When the dust settled, Urd vowed to personally help him ace his entrance exam and find love at last!

Just not necessarily in that order.

With the damage contained, the files saved, and reality back on track, the three Norns set down to work on retrieving what they had lost.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these really recognizable characters. They belong to some really talented people that well, make a heck of a lot more money than I am. Since there'd be no real point in suing me (since I'm broke), I'll go ahead and start writing now.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

The Forgotten Realms setting is property of Wizards of the Coast.

Author's Note:

I need a break from Progeny and Heirs, so I thought that I would do something short and sweet to appease my wounded Muse.

Enjoy!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Realms**

**Chapter One**

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

A lot can happen in life.

Really.

You could end up tossed into a pit of cats at the age of six; you could be sold like a chunk of cheap meat to anyone stupid or desperate enough to be swindled by a very irresponsible father. You could fall into a spring that robs you of your gender, fight insane martial artists, become engaged to a rather cute, if not backward tomboy, spar with a bunch of perverts and weirdoes, only to end up fighting and killing a god.

Or….

You could wake up and find a talking cat on the way to school, have her convince you to become a super heroine, and find out that you're the reincarnated princess of a kingdom that lived on the moon. You might even watch your friends die a few times over, only to be brought back time and again to fight the good fight on behalf of Love and Justice.

…better yet…

You could make an accidental phone call to Heaven, meet a goddess, and then be granted the most amazing opportunity of a lifetime! This meant that you would have to deal with demons, mythic creatures, and last but not least, more beautiful goddesses. One would consider this to be incredibly lucky…

Then again…

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Ranma**

"Son of a…" If the air friction hadn't been warming him, the air at this altitude might have actually been cold…. Ranma sleepily rubbed the knot that was forming on his scalp, and grimaced as he passed through a cloudbank.

Life was supposed to get easier as you grew older. At least that's what Hiroshi and Daisuke kept telling him. Fat lot they knew. The stupid bastards weren't engaged to marry a sadist.

As he exited the clouds, he noticed that his masculine body had shrunk noticeably. The red headed aquatransexual grabbed her now loose boxers and growled. Her sleeveless t-shirt fluttered noisily in her ears, as she cursed Shampoo and Akane. Neither one of them would listen like reasonable people!

It wasn't like she wanted Shampoo using him as a pillow! He'd installed forty-seven different traps on his doors and window this week alone! Not that Akane had cared about that! Oh, no! All that she saw was a very naked, purple haired hormone, snoozing on his chest.

The least that Akane could have done was wait until dawn before beating the crap out of him! It was still dark out damn it! He was losing valuable sleep!

She jerked at the drawstring that Kasumi had thoughtfully sewn into the elastic, cinching the waist tight, and braced herself for impact. Ranma's trajectory would have taken her somewhere near Mrs. Humori's bakery this morning. The thought of all that wonderful bread was a slight pick-me-up.

At least she could get some bagels or doughnuts before going home again.

Well, she could have, had she still been on Earth…

"WHAT THE HELL?"

The nasty battle beneath her looked like something from Lodoss War. Elves with black skin and white hair were beating the snot out of some really disorganized men and women. A flash drew her attention to a flaming explosion on her right. Body parts and disrupted earth flew everywhere, causing her stomach to lurch.

She knew what war was supposed to look like, but it was quite a different experience seeing a life and death struggle playing out before her in vivid reality. Just what the Hell was going on?

The red haired martial artist would know soon enough. At the rate that the ground was rushing up to meet her, she would land deep behind the lines of the black skinned elves. From the way that they were slaughtering the others, Ranma knew that she wasn't going to be greeted with open arms.

Oh…joy.

Another battle for her life…just what she needed on her eighteenth birthday.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Usagi**

Dreams came naturally to the past and future princess of the moon. They were the only things that kept her sane in her chaotic war against waking nightmares. Thus sweet dreams, when they came to her were meant to be savored for all of their worth.

Luna thought that Usagi was lazy, but in truth the poor girl was simply trying to survive one of the nastiest emotional winepresses a human had ever experienced. It wasn't easy to be responsible for saving the world, nor was it easy trying to prepare yourself to rule it one day in the future – which is exactly why Usagi found herself celebrating as much as she could. She knew that her innocence would be ripped from her completely soon enough, and she wanted nothing more than to hoard what little she had left.

So she often found herself dreaming, both day and night, about the normal things that every flighty teenaged girl dreamt about: boys. Well, one boy at least…if you could call him that.

"Mmmm. Mamo-chan. You feel so warm." Usagi giggled naughtily, snuggling even closer to the comfortable heat source. The blonde haired girl sighed. She could almost hear her love's heart beating rapidly as her hands danced across his chest. It sounded so very strong!

Usagi's smile beamed as she basked in the radiance of love's sweet embrace. She couldn't wait until they were married, then at the very least she could do this and that, and maybe some of…

Oh MY!

Usagi giggled again as her dream continued to heat up. She was certain that Luna would say that the Moon Princess wouldn't have such torrid thoughts…heh…if only she knew!

A sudden light filtered through her closed eyelids, causing Usagi to grumble and squint.

"Luna, close the blinds!" When the light did not abate, the blonde haired girl growled and rolled herself further beneath the warm blankets. It wasn't fair! Every time she got to the good parts, the stupid sun would rise and ruin the whole thing! Well, DARNIT! She wasn't going to just give into this! She was going to finish her dream and thoroughly enjoy it, even if it made her late!

"Luuuuna! Kill the lights!"

When the brightness did not lessen Usagi found herself twitching and fidgeting restlessly, until she could finally take no more.

"DANG IT LUNA! I'm just asking for five more minutes! Why can't…you…jus…"

Usagi blinked at the very gangly, very naked balding man that had somehow come to occupy her bed. His owlish eyes and rather large nose would have given him a fairly wise demeanor had he not been in so much shock. Usagi thought that he looked almost cute with the way his hair was all ruffled and mussed.

Wait a minute. What was a middle-aged man doing sleeping naked in her bed?

Usagi checked the state of her dress and was relieved to find that her white silk pajamas were still intact. She turned her attention back to the man before her and smiled weakly. He tentatively returned the gesture.

The rest of the occupants of the Harpell Estate were rudely woken a moment later by twin screams – save, of course, for Hevig Harpell who had been known to sleep through dragon raids on multiple occasions due to a rather linger side effect from a potion that he had accidentally imbibed. The screams slowly became the sounds of gratuitous property damage. All in all, it was a typical night for the Harpells.

"Moon Spiral Heart Attack!"

"ARGH!"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Heaven: Asgard**

"I'VE GOT HIM! I'VE GOT HIM!" Urd screamed drawing Belldandy to her terminal rapidly. Skuld looked up from her computations hopefully. The Norns of the Past and the Present slipped their hands into thin air and yanked for all they were worth. A loud ripping sound echoed through the room, and Urd squawked indignantly as she fell on her rump.

"STUPID LITTLE #!&$$!" Urd growled as she stomped around the main systems center of Yggdrasil waving a pair of pajama bottoms in one hand and a pair of boxers decorated with little angels in the other. Belldandy sat heavily on a small floating pillow nearby clutching Keiichi's pajama top to her chest.

They had been so close.

"I almost had him Bell!" The Norn of the Past looked at her forlorn sister in frustration. "He was still in transit, and I thought we could isolate and retrieve him before he slipped away." Urd hung her head and flopped tiredly into her own hovering chair with a sigh.

"I'm sorry." Had it been anyone else, Urd could have felt some sense of professional detachment. But this was Keiichi – the selfless young man who had captured her sister's heart. The same man that had opened his home and life to all the insanity that went along with loving a goddess. He had even received Urd with open arms with no strings attached…something that only her Father had ever done.

She wasn't surprised by the tears that ran down her cheeks, nor by the feel of Belldandy's arms encircling her. She was however, surprised to feel her Father's presence enter the room.

"Father?" Belldandy sniffled as Urd attempted to wipe her eyes and stand.

The Almighty gave the elder daughters a comforting smile before passing them by. Both goddesses blinked in confusion as He slowly walked up behind his third daughter who sat before a large terminal, typing feverishly. Belldandy and Urd stood and started to move closer, only to find themselves halted by their Father's upraised hand.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Keiichi**

He woke to the sounds of chanting and noted three things immediately. One: He wasn't in the same bed that he fell asleep in. Two: He wasn't home, since the rather startled young woman looking down on him wasn't Belldandy, or any of the other girls that he had come to know. Third (and probably the most important fact in his opinion): The room felt really drafty for some reason.

After cataloguing all of these initial reactions, Keiichi's sharp mind set to work trying to solve the problems that they represented. First things first, where was he? The room was rather large, and looking over the young woman's shoulder, he could see about twelve to fifteen young men and women staring at him. The shaved heads, combined with the chanting marked this as some sort of monastery.

Okay. This was good. A little Divine intervention was a good thing right? Keiichi immediately thought of Urd and Skuld and started questioning that path of logic. He hadn't remembered doing anything bad yesterday. And since both Skuld and Urd were in Heaven, that left them off the hook. Maybe Mara had snuck him a mickey at the party last night while he wasn't looking. That would be just about par for course….

One problem at a time Morisato! He chided himself.

Problem number two: Intimately tied to number one. If he wasn't at home in his room, maybe these people might know a god or goddess that could help him out. This was a temple, and they were worshipping after all, which meant that surely he could contact said Deity…who in turn could contact Belldandy.

Whoohoo! Things were looking up!

Okay problem three! Drafty Chills. Chills Cold. Cold is normally associated with cold or wintry weather. Spring mornings were often chilly, so the thought of the cold didn't bother him as much as it should have.

A cold breeze caused Keiichi's skin to prickle, which in turn made Keiichi look down. He noted that the young woman standing over him was following his gaze and blushing terribly; after a moment he understood why.

One would think that that he'd have grown used to things like this by now.

Okay, so what do you do when you wake up naked in front of an attractive priestess, in the middle of a temple during services? Keiichi wracked his brain for a good long minute before he gave up. What could you do? Cover yourself and hope for mercy…?

He smiled up at the young woman and sighed. The inevitable would happen, just as it always did. All he had to do was wait for it. He even tried speeding things up a bit by counting down out loud. The sooner he was unconscious, the better.

He got to seven before the woman screamed and brained him with the ornamental staff that she was carrying. The last thing that he saw before succumbing to the darkness was the clatter of metal and wood against stone, and the sound of rustling cloth.

What did happen to his clothes anyway?

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Heaven: Asgard**

Skuld tried to ignore the Supreme Divinity behind her. She could feel His love, His peace, and most of all His forgiveness…things that she didn't feel worthy of. She refused to acknowledge the Almighty in favor of trying to track the rapidly diminishing trail of Keiichi's code. If she could isolate just a few more variables, then she would have his final destination….

"SKULD."

The young Goddess of the Future tried her best to focus on the readout, but for some reason, her vision kept blurring. She growled and squinted her eyes angrily. She wasn't about to give up! She would create a tracer program and piggyback a Level Twelve Angelic Rescue and Reclamation Team. That would be a good start. If it failed, then she would divine a new solution. Maybe she could scrape together a few unclaimed wishes…seven would do, and then bind them into…yes that would work nicely. All she would need then is an Ultimate Circle of Warding, and then everything would be fine.

"SKULD." His voice came to her again, filled with the same calm acceptance, accompanied by her Father's gentle hand on her shoulder.

"SKULD. STOP."

Her fingers trembled as they flew across her keyboard for a moment more before slowly coming to a halt. She shook with the need to continue, but there was no way that she could disobey His command. She bit her lip at the unfairness of it all and watched as Keiichi's signature silently faded into nothing.

Darn it! Why did this have to happen? Why did Keiichi need to screw everything up all the time! Bell was going to be heart broken and it was all his fault! She angrily wiped the back of her hand over her eyes and sighed. Who was she kidding? It wasn't Keiichi's fault. It was hers.

Belldandy would…would hate her!

Skuld felt a universe of guilt and shame settle on her shoulders. She felt the incredible loss – a void so complete that it consumed her. Keiichi was gone, and she wept for him.

"Wh…why?" Her voice was choked and already raw.

Father smiled down at her with that warm, all-knowing smile as he bent and kissed her forehead.

"I CREATED MY CHILDREN TO EXPERIENCE JOY, DAUGHTER."

Skuld's brow furrowed in frustration.

"But Bell's joy is Keiichi! And…and Keiichi's joy is Bell!" She clenched her hands tightly. "How can they be separated and still experience true joy?"

The Almighty's gentle smile grew.

"SKULD," He turned his gaze slightly so that He could take in Belldandy and Urd as well.

"THERE IS A SEASON TO ALL THINGS."

"But we PROMISED!" Skuld challenged. "His wish was approved!"

"AND IT SHALL BE FULFILLED." The Almighty's voice never changed pitch. It remained calm, cool, and loving as he stroked his daughter's raven hair. "I HAVE SPOKEN, AND IT SHALL BE SO."

"But…but…" Skuld's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why?" The question sounded lame, even to her ears. The Almighty simply smiled.

"SO THAT THE TERMS OF THE CONTRACT ARE FULFILLED."

Belldandy's eyes grew wide and began to tear up. He couldn't have meant what he was implying! He couldn't! The thought of such an event seemed so far fetched, so insanely improbable that she had never thought to even dream of it. And yet, here Father stood with a twinkle in His all knowing eyes. It was all the evidence that she needed.

The Norn of the Present, squealed girlishly and threw herself into the waiting arms of her Father. And she laughed – loud, long, and free. It was the sound of true joy, and it confused the Hell out of her sisters.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Shadowdale, Faerun**

"TO ME!"

Her voice was hoarse from singing and spell casting. Smoke from the wildfires that had sprung up from the magical combat between the two forces threatened to strangle her between breaths. And yet, somehow the bard's voice still managed to resonate above the continued cacophony of clashing blades and magical explosions. The moon hung above the battlefield, illuminating the garish conflict with an eerie, unnatural light.

She motioned sharply to the surviving archers to lay down cover fire, so the remainder of her men could fall back and regroup. Flight after flight of death rained down into the enemy, causing a large no-man's land to develop between the two forces.

"GROUP TO ME!"

She tried her best to hide the desperation in her voice behind a wall of gruff command. By some divine providence she managed the feat, in spite of all the bad luck that her troops had endured. The drow had taken them to task, and had all but overwhelmed the Dalesmen.

"GROUP TO ME!"

Her voice croaked at the end of her barked command and she knew that if she survived the conflict, she wouldn't be singing again for at least a fortnight. If that were the least of her worries in the days ahead, she would be happy. Storm cast a worried glance at her dear friend Brailen Roseveil at her right. The Archmage, a former apprentice to Elminster, had been a godsend.

"Erect your globe around us when the men are in position. Send Dorn and Olma to treat those that need it most along the line." Brailen nodded and motioned the dwarf and human clerics into action. And then, with a steely glint the Archmage pulled forth a scroll and began to chant.

Storm watched the wounded and the exhausted defenders slowly give ground and back into a moderate sized half circle. Men, Elves, Dwarves, Halflings and Gnomes situated themselves carefully, packing themselves four and five people deep, while dispatching the few drow that had been cut off from the main force of their contingent. The veritable wall of steel that was soon created against the black sea of drow on the slope of Maigan's Hill was an impressive sight. Blood, sweat, and steel framed the solid determination on the faces of the defenders. It was enough to give even the infamous drow pause.

As soon as the last men were in place, Brailen completed her spell and an impenetrable wall of force shimmered into existence around the company. Nearly sixty feet in diameter, the magical shield was an amazing creation that had earned Brailen her title as Archmage a decade earlier. No magic or physical attack could hope to penetrate the wall of force. Such a boon did not come without a cost however. Brailen slumped to the ground spent from the effort of crafting the invisible fortress.

The dark horde took the opportunity to regroup and test the integrity of the mystic shield. Arrows lanced from the back of the dark elven host, only to strike the impassable wall of magic that had been erected by the Archmage. Spells of great power hammered the dome ineffectually, further testing its strength and allowing Storm's warriors a brief respite. Storm worriedly glanced down to her friend and wondered how long the spell would last.

Sadly, it did not last long enough. Less than a half hour passed before the air was filled with the sound of a musical chime, and then the dome shattered like a window of glass. Both forces were prepared for the event and missiles (magical and mundane) blotted out the moon for a time, as both sides did their level best to slaughter each other.

The noise was deafening as the two forces clashed. Man and elf alike screamed, either caught up in the rage of battle or damning the cause of their deaths. The death toll was catastrophic for both sides, but Storm could readily tell that the defenders of Shadowdale were suffering more than their black skinned opponents. It would only be a matter of time before they were over run.

"We need the sun!" Storm growled, cutting three arrows from the air in quick succession. Brailen, awake from the renewed battle, looked grim as he gazed skyward - marking the stars in their heavenly vault.

"We've four hours yet Storm!" She yelled over the noise.

"We can't last that long!"

She needn't have said it; both she and the wizard knew that their time was limited. They had been fighting nonstop since just after dusk, waiting in vain for reinforcements to arrive from Ashabenford, and the drow had vastly outnumbered them five to one even then. The veteran Harpers and the stubborn Dalesfolk spat in death's eye, and whittled the enemies numbers down to less than half what it had been. Sadly, the defenders had lost over half of their contingent to accomplish the feat.

"What shall we do now Archmage?" Storm's voice was tired, immeasurably so. They had given up all the ground that they possibly could, and had their backs already pressing against Codwyhn's bluff. If they didn't make a move sooner, their ragtag band of defender's would be pinned against the craggy limestone walls of the bluff. Storm offered up a silent prayer to Mystra and Tymora that her men at least would be lucky enough to escape the battle.

Brailen's frown deepened in thought. They were out numbered, and too many of their warriors were still caught in the line of fire of her spell casting. There was a way…but the risks outweighed the potential rewards. She needed time to think.

Storm looked to the sky and studied the moon for a moment, hoping that the stars would inspire her on a course of action. By chance, she noted a radiant shape falling from the glow of the full moon that sat just above the treetops. The aura of power that surrounded the small figure flared, followed by a battle cry that echoed above the savage noises of battle. The cry heralded the arrival of hope, and renewed the flagging spirits of Shadowdale's defenders.

The Archmage watched in puzzlement as the figure fell behind the enemy. Her confusion soon turned to surprise as the bodies of many drow mages began taking to the air with loud cries of surprise and wonderment. Brailen and Storm grinned and walked forward, selecting three veteran Harpers.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"HAA!" Ranma's fist crushed another black skinned elf's nose, summarily knocking the robed elf unconscious. Her follow up danced around a rapid two-blade combo that came in from her left. As she spun a volley of small cross bolts buzzed past her, imbedding themselves in her previous attacker. She was surprised to note that the elf suddenly turned rigid and fell over comatose.

Great. Poisoned. Kodachi would love these guys!

Another blinding combo streaked at her, again from the left, tearing her sleeveless t-shirt as it flared up just beneath her ribcage. No blood was drawn, for which Ranma was extremely grateful. These guys were fast, almost as fast as she was, and incredibly skilled with their weapons of choice. She had been pressed since the very beginning of this battle, and there was no doubt that she had been lucky so far. She wasn't dead and neither were her enemies; for her that was a plus.

She knew that she couldn't keep this pace going forever. It was hard enough pulling her punches and regulating her kicks to keep them non-lethal, the longer that she kept going, the sloppier she'd become. Sooner or later they would force her to up the ante, and it would come down to them or her. Well, damnit! There was no way in Hell that she was going to die here. And while the thought of killing again chilled her, she still had to give Akane a piece of her mind.

Stupid tomboy.

Ranma back flipped atop a dark elf's extended sword that aimed to puncture her back. The look of surprise on her opponent's face was evident, even in the low light cast by the moon. She smirked before violently introducing him to her foot. As the dark elf fell to the muddy earth at her feet, Ranma heaved a sigh. One down, six more charging her from every angle…not exactly the best sign, but she had seen worse in her lifetime.

Not much worse though.

Her opponents were getting smarter and more coordinated the longer that she fought, while she simply got tired. It took great skill and even greater restraint not to kill these guys, and the effort was exhausting her. From the looks of things, it was time to break out the big guns.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"MOKO TAKABISHA!"

Zuieez V'heron had heard a number of spells cast in his two hundred and fifteen year life span, and he had survived numerous confrontations against drow mages and the spider kissing clerics of Lloth. He had even waged war on the surface against his fair skinned cousins and their allies. And yet, in all that time, he had never encountered anything quite like the attack that blasted his fellows from their feet.

There were no flames from the concussive blast, but the force from its detonation alone tossed the drow about like chaff in the wind. There was something else about the attack, something that tickled at the edge of his awareness.

The air itself was thick with arrogant confidence, and the glowing human girl – if that truly was what she was – continued to lash out at his brethren with a ferocity that was both graceful and vicious. She held no weapon – she had no need of one. Her fists and feet blurred at speeds too fast for the naked eye to follow, leaving broken bodies littered in her wake. She had overwhelmed half of their magical battery in less than two minutes. Clerics and magic users alike lay crippled and insensate as she literally cut through the drow contingent.

She was a fiery goddess of pain and passion, fallen from the moon to do battle with the forces of House Jaerle. And like a goddess, none seemed able to stand against her. She danced around every blade, oft times robbing her enemy of the weapon before breaking a bone or obliterating a joint.

Zuieez had to wonder at her methodology. From what he could see, she had not taken a life. Each and every foe she had faced was very much alive – in an excruciating amount of pain and most likely crippled for life, but alive nonetheless. And she continued to make certain that her opponents would not be getting up to fight anew.

It was terribly efficient and considering the drow outlook on conservation of utility, extremely cruel. Broken hands and jaws couldn't cast spells, and many of those bones looked like so much powder considering the way that they hung from their owner's bodies. To be sure, many of his brethren would return to the field to fight anew, but the majority would be killed like the useless Rothe they were.

Truly, she was a masterpiece. Graceful and vicious, not only in body but in mind as well.

"Masterful!"

Zuieez smiled wickedly at the busty, red headed whirlwind and noted something else. She seemed to be ignoring the fodder and seeking out only the most powerful. Mages and sorcerers…or anyone that showed any ability to cast a spell fell to her hand. She was a wonder of nature.

"I will make you mine."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Ivy Mansion, Longsaddle**

DelRoy Harpell sighed and rubbed his wrinkled forehead with his thumb. He was decidedly too old for any of this. All that he had asked for in life was to see some of the world, work some serious magic, and retire in one piece. So far he had made good on all three of those goals, but it seemed that the gods were intent to make that retirement as hectic as possible.

His nieces and nephews were making themselves excellent accomplices in this endeavor. Tonight it seemed that Hevig had somehow gated in a rather delicate, if not beautiful, denizen from another plane. If he had been sixty years younger, he might have tried to do the same thing. In fact, come to think of it he had done the same thing…or at least tried to. Hevig had succeeded grandly, where DelRoy had summoned a talking pig.

"THAT MAN IS A PERVERT!" The statement struck the elder Harpell as extremely ironic, considering the skimpy costume that the young woman was wearing.

Poor Hevig flinched as the blonde girl waved her ridiculous heart capped scepter at him. The balding man wrapped his robes tighter about his shivering body and desperately tried to suppress his fear. DelRoy could sympathize with his distant nephew. The entire estate had heard the young woman's screaming, and after a hasty translation spell, all were in agreement that the acts she had intended to unleash upon poor Hevig were both unnatural and unquestionably painful. Which is why DelRoy chose to save his nephew from this irate Outsider, before Hevig's branch of the family tree was pruned…for good.

"Mistress Usagi." He thumbed a generous pinch of tobacco into his favorite pipe and to the young woman's amazement lit it with a snap of his fingers. "While the circumstances of your arrival were highly improper, I must defend my poor, cowering nephew from accusations of indecency."

Usagi's eyes, wide and staring at the old wizard's pipe, narrowed dangerously.

"He was naked."

"In his own bed, might I remind you." DelRoy countered. Usagi grumphed and crossed her arms beneath her breasts. This caused Hevig to stare at her chest for an instant longer than he should have. Usagi ground her teeth severely, and her eyebrow started to twitch.

"He leered at me."

"I…I did not!" Hevig sputtered primly. Usagi, who had been around Rei long enough to pick up some rather nasty habits, growled at the man causing him to whimper. She just needed one viable excuse, and then she could blast him!

Seeing that the situation was about to get further out of hand, DelRoy chose to try and lighten the mood. Children were too up tight nowadays.

"Mistress Usagi, surely you must admit that that is not truly a crime." DelRoy weathered her withering stare calmly. "You are highly attractive young woman,"

Usagi couldn't help but blush and shuffle her feet at the compliment.

"…and were you to suddenly appear in my bed, in the middle of the night, I must admit that I would have a hard time not staring…"

Usagi bit her lip.

"Take into account the rather…" He coughed into his fist. "…ahem…revealing attire…." DelRoy simply finished the statement with a wave of his hand. Usagi's blush deepened and she quickly settled herself onto a divan across from DelRoy. The magic sustaining her Senshi form slowly reverted her back to her silky, white pajamas. The elder Harpell simply allowed his comments settle into the woman's mind, while his curiosity immediately set about deciphering the magical processes that had allowed for the transformation.

Damn fascinating that! Damn fascinating.

After a few moments of fruitless puzzling, DelRoy returned his attention to the more pressing problem at hand. He wasn't as scatterbrained as some of his relatives, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't come back to the problem at a later date.

"Ahem! I believe we have had a rather unfortunate misunderstanding, wouldn't you say?" Usagi nodded her head. Hevig sighed audibly, sounding very much like a dying bellows than a relieved man. DelRoy smiled beneath his thick white beard and puffed generously on his pipe.

"Now then. It is late, and I believe that it would be prudent to sort out the rest of your mystery after a good night's rest." Usagi smiled wearily, as the effects of her adrenaline rapidly wore off. She nodded and looked between Hevig and DelRoy nervously, eliciting a hearty chuckle from the older man.

"Come dear. I doubt that poor Hevig would survive the night if you were to bed with him." Usagi frowned at the man, again doing her best to imitate Rei's worst scowl. DelRoy shook his head and patted the girl's knee. "Come, I will have one of my nieces show you to a guest room."

Hevig Harpell sat in the room for quite some time after his uncle and the Mansion's newest occupant left. He, along with many others had felt the power that the young woman casually wielded…even without the aid of detection spells! He had never come so close to death as he had this evening, and he prayed to Mystra that he would never some so close again!

He somehow made it back to his bed an hour before sunrise, and for the duration of Usagi's stay at the Ivy Mansion, he made every effort to remain out of sight and out of mind.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Somewhere….**

A beautiful, dark haired woman stared into a large, elevated pool of water that glowed with a silvery luminescence. Her dark blue dress shimmered like silk, but upon closer inspection one could readily see that the cloth was actually a web of energy. Within the pool an image of a pretty blonde haired girl slept.

"She is beautiful is she not?" The dark haired woman turned from the pool to look at her silver haired companion. "She could have been Elue's twin, rather than her daughter."

"I dared not hope that she would return." The dark haired woman frowned slightly. "I must admit that I am not totally certain how to feel about this."

The silver haired beauty smiled sadly. "How should a mother feel when her daughter is returned to her?"

"That is the dilemma Selune. This…" She gestured with her hand to the sleeping girl. "…is the daughter of my predecessor."

Selune wrapped a gentle arm around the dark haired woman and drew her close.

"Do not dally in semantics. Midnight is as much a part of you as Mystra. You are a complete and unified whole, and as such this magnificent child is as much your daughter as you are mine regardless of the changes that you have undergone."

For a long moment the Goddess of Magic stared into the depths of the pool, watching the young woman. After a time a smile slowly grew on her lips.

"She will be a handful."

"True." Selune sighed thoughtfully. "She will need to be tempered."

Mystra's smile deepened.

"And loved. Who best to fill the void in her heart and guide her I wonder?"

"It would be best to remember Lord Ao's decree concerning the three. We will have them for a season and no more. Choose someone that will prepare her for her return."

Mystra leaned forward, out of Selune's embrace, supporting herself against the lip of the well. Her smile slowly vanished, leaving a furrowed brow in its place. Selune held her peace and allowed the Goddess of Magic her time.

"Alustriel." She said finally. "Yes, I will send her to Alustriel. There can be no other."

Selune nodded her approval and moved to sit in a large, soft chair near the pool. Mystra turned to face the Goddess of the Moon ponderously.

"She is tied to you through her affiliation to the moon?"

Selune nodded.

"Will you do anything to influence her path?"

The Moon Goddess steepled her fingers thoughtfully, but shook her head in the end.

"My interests lie elsewhere. Although she would be a valuable weapon, it is the Saotome child that may prove an interesting advocate against Shar's interests in time."

Mystra allowed her surprise to show openly. Selune smirked behind her fingers.

"The Dark Moon has ever been a thorn in my side. Shar is becoming increasingly bold in her use of the sect. How many of your own worshippers have fallen at their hands? I believe that with proper guidance, the child will bring them low."

"And what of Serenity?" Mystra questioned. "She bares the mark of the Crescent Moon, which will ultimately tie her to you despite your indifference. Shar will mark her for that alone."

The Moon Goddess pondered the dilemma for a time, until finally a quiet, secretive smile danced across her pale lips. As she outlined her plan to the Lady of Mysteries, the smile grew further. Mystra looked skeptical, but intrigued.

"And the third?"

Selune simply turned her attentions back to the scrying pool.

"He is his own, and may come and go as he pleases. He belongs to one that only a fool would cross. No, we shall leave the third to his Fate. Should he involve himself in our plans, then and only then will we intervene."

Mystra looked deeply into the pool, dancing along the threads of time and shook her head. "They will surely shake the foundations of Toril."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**End Chapter One**_


	2. Chapter 2

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer**:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Note:**

Special thanks go out to R.A. Salvatore for his amazing characters and depiction of the drow.

Enjoy!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Realms**

**Chapter Two**

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Keiichi woke for the third time to the smell of incense and old books. His head throbbed no matter how still he laid, leaving him feeling rather nauseous and weak. He tried lifting his head a little, but the room spun so bad that he had vomited over the side of the bed.

"The mysterious traveler wakes!"

Keiichi allowed his head to roll weakly, trying his best to ignore the burning aftertaste of bile in his throat. His nose was filled with a churning acidic smell, one that made him swallow repeatedly in order to keep from purging his stomach again. He noted idly that the sun had yet to break the horizon, and that his room was bathed in the waning light of a fat, and nearly full moon.

"I bet that you were wishing that you hadn't, eh?"

The man's voice was deep and filled with good-natured mirth. When Keiichi's eyes finally focused on the jovial man, he was immediately reminded of Santa – minus the red and white suit. He was a large man, stout with a silver beard that draped down his chest like a bib. His heavy, woolen clothing reminded Keiichi of some Franciscan Monks that he had seen in a movie once.

Well, at least he knew that he was somewhere close to religious people. He only hoped that they wouldn't think him crazy when they started asking questions about his arrival. The young man smiled against his wishes, trying to put himself and his host at ease.

"Welcome back to the land of the living, lad."

Keiichi swallowed and tried to find his voice, but the bile in his throat made him swallow his words.

"I don't suppose you understand a word of what I'm saying, eh? You've got the look of Kara-Tur about you, an' that's a long bit from Lantan to be sure." The large man settled on the side of the stout bed, causing the frame to groan a bit. He lifted a small bowl from the floor and drew a wet cloth from its shallow depths. As the man cleaned his face and nose with the cool rag, Keiichi struggled to take over.

"Here now, there'll be none of that." The man's voice said crossly. "You're to rest yourself now. Sister Maerdith gave you a great walloping, and if I might say so, you weren't looking all that healthy when you dropped in on us to begin with."

Keiichi swallowed heavily and forced his pasty mouth into action.

"Can…I…have some water?" he croaked.

"Oh, ho! You do speak a civilized tongue!" The large man grinned. "I am ashamed to have thought so little of you, Master…"

"Morisato Keiichi."

"Master Keiichi." The man rolled the name off of his tongue as if he were tasting it. "Well then Master Keiichi, what brings you all this way from the Far East?" The man bowed over the side of the bed and brought up a good-sized ladle and carefully helped the young man to drink, before Keiichi answered.

"Urd…I think."

"Urd? I'm not familiar with that. Is it plant, animal, or mineral?"

Keiichi snorted.

"None of the above."

"Person then?"

Keiichi nodded. There was no way that he was going to try and explain his relationship with the Norn of the Past. The man just nodded and set about laying a new damp cloth across Keiichi's forehead.

"Can I ask a couple questions?"

Santa-man nodded again and busied himself with cleaning up the floor where Keiichi had emptied his stomach.

"Who are you and where am I?" The man straightened quickly and looked terribly ashamed.

"Bother me! Where are my manners?" He chuckled jovially. "I am Evendur Thistlebeck, Seeker of Oghma. And you my friend are in the Gainsburrow Abbey, on the Northeastern tip of the island Lantan."

Keiichi didn't know where Lantan was, or what exactly a Seeker of Oghma was either. So, rather than press for more information, he allowed himself to slump back against his pillow. Evendur smiled kindly in understanding and quickly finished up his work. By the time he was done, Keiichi was sleeping peacefully.

"Sleep well, Master Keiichi."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Maigan's Hill 

Shadowdale, Dawn

Ranma's arms felt like lead. The fighting had been going on for three and a half hours straight, and the martial artist was definitely feeling the effects. Her feet were caked in bloody mud and had become ten pounds heavier in spite of all the jumping and dodging that she did. Had she arrived with any shoes, they would have long since been lost in the sanguine mire. Her hands were bruised and her knuckles were cut and bleeding from blocking the dark elves wicked blades.

She had tried to pull off a Hiryu Shoten Ha, but these dark elves were cold-hearted bastards. She could insult them until she was blue in the face and all that she would get was a chilling smile that promised a long and painful death. The sadistic, hateful looks haunted her, not for their intensity – she'd seen the emotion on the faces of her rivals enough to brush them aside. No it was the frequency that chilled her. Everywhere she turned, she saw another body with that same face.

It was evident that she was in shock. It was the same adrenaline induced, detachment she had experienced after Phoenix Mountain, and while the reason wasn't the same, it was related. She had heard stories and seen war movies, but nothing had prepared her for the savagery of the real thing. Death literally walked the field, with gruesome, bloody steps.

No matter where her eyes fell, someone was dying. A stout dwarf had been buried beneath six opponents, and summarily butchered. A tall dusky skinned elf lost her head to a dark elf's back swing. Two wizards from both camps had literally blow each other into a great cloud of gory red mist. And the list of atrocities went on and on.

After a time, Ranma let herself fall into the dance of the battle, losing herself in the rhythm of the conflict. The visions of death were easier to ignore so long as she was moving. She addressed each new partner in turn giving them her all, while ensuring that they didn't die from her blows. After each consecutive engagement, she found her strength waning, leaving her open to more and more cuts and scratches from her enemy's weapons. She was certain that there would be scarring, but at this point she didn't care.

So long as she got out of this alive, she didn't care.

"Moko Takabisha!" Her voice was raw, but worse still was the weak blast that she threw at a group of black skinned elves. Rather than flying, they had been merely knocked from their feet. It was enough for the defenders to finish the quartet, but Ranma knew then and there that she was in dire straights.

Her chi was almost spent, and the Ki in this place was weird…almost slippery. It was like…a lead bottomed cloud, swirling just out of reach. She was having trouble gathering it to replenish her reserves. Ranma had never fully learned the technique to begin with. It was something that she had cobbled together from esoteric resources and a few really stupid manga. Still, the theory was sound and if anyone could pull it off it was Ranma Saotome! She just hoped that she figured it out before someone stabbed her in the back.

She absently blocked a downward slash from a new opponent, and quickly snapped the sword arm at the elbow with and upward strike. The crunch echoed through her arm making her want to puke, but she savagely pushed it down and went about her work.

She spun rapidly, trying to ignore the elf's screams long enough to put him down. Her follow through lacked the power to knock the elf unconscious, but there was still the disturbing crunch of his nose being broken. The shock of more pain running through his body numbed her opponent for an instant, giving Ranma the opening she needed. With a great "KIYAH!" she quickly finished him off with an axe kick that drove his face into the churned turf at her feet.

Damn! Her muscles burned, and her chest was heaving as she hungrily drank in the air about her. She needed a break. She'd never had to fight for this long or this hard without a breather before. There was no doubt that sooner or later she was going to make a serious mistake that was going to cost someone their life. Hopefully it wouldn't be hers. She really needed a break.

Miraculously one came, in the form of an elegant, silver haired swordswoman and a growling dwarf. Ranma quickly took stock of her surroundings, looking for the next adversary. She absently heard the woman and the dwarf shoot questions her way, but her blood was pounding in her ears. Even if she had been able to hear them, she knew that their words wouldn't have penetrated the horror that loomed before her.

The amount of bodies strewn across the bloody field was mind numbing in its galling severity. But the sight that made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach, were the men and women dispatching the foes that she had defeated. Crippled and helpless, the dark elves were quickly and efficiently…if not excitedly murdered. Some fell to the defenders, but more than a few fell to their own. It was a terrible sight to behold and the more that she watched, the angrier Ranma became.

Rage pumped adrenaline through her veins at a wild pace, and the buxom red head savagely latched onto the slippery Ki that surrounded her. It was instinctual. A one in a million chances to succeed – and true to Satome luck, Ranma had pulled a victory out of certain defeat. She wrestled the slippery life energies into a chokehold with her chi, and pinned it in a proverbial vice grip until the two energies began to mingle.

Slick and heavy on one side and light and airy on the other, the spirit blood of this place was rich and powerful. It filled her. It burned her. It sang to her! Sweet Heaven above it caressed her! She drew more into her and continued drawing, as much as she could bear and more. She rode the Tsunami of power, surfing the fringe and walking the razor's edge. Each breath was labored, and sweat stood out on her forehead. It was all she could do not to lose herself to the vast flow of energy. There were no instructions in this maneuver, no manual or teacher to offer her guidance. Ranma was making this up as she went along.

She needed to end this conflict. That was what was important. She needed to stop the killing, even if it cost her life; she couldn't stand the thought of watching another life fade. Muscles tensed and her aura flexed with them, allowing it to spring to life around her in a dark, silvery blue halo of angry flames. The dwarf squawked in surprise, and the silvery light that Ranma's body cast startled the woman as well. Both were pushed away due to the sudden burning chill that had begun to bleed off of the petite figure.

That's when Ranma felt it: the heat from the defenders, and the cold fury of their black skinned enemies. It littered the field like a thousand swirling eddies waiting to be tapped. Ranma didn't understand why she hadn't noticed them before, but now that she had she was intent on using them to put an end to this stupidity. She called out to the heat and the cold and began drawing to her, weaving it into a tapestry of fury.

"Hiryu…" Her voice was nothing more than a whisper as she began moving in a tight spiral. The dwarf and the swordswoman could feel the power crackling off of Ranma and wisely chose to retreat. A ghostly, silver mist began to swirl at the martial artist's feet, as she carefully crafted the spiral in her mind's eye.

Most of the combatants paused in their killing, to pinpoint the source of the sudden discomfort tingling up their spines. Each could sense the sudden change in the density of the air around them.

Her eyes glowed with silver fire, and jagged arcs of bluish white lightning danced about her body. Those that had not run at the sight of her fury noted a cold breeze whipping through their legs. Ranma cocked her fist, which more combatants took to be a sign to retire from the field.

"Shoten…" Her dainty voice echoed clearly in the silence as more and more combatants fled the field in search of cover from the growing wind.

"HAAAAAA!" Ranma's fist shot skyward, and the mother of all cyclones screamed to life around her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

From the shadows of her dark court, the Lady of Loss felt someone savagely take hold of the Shadow Weave. There had been no petitioning, or blood sacrifice. Someone had simply taken hold of the strand and tapped its energy. Shar cast her senses along the Weave and snarled.

She felt this wonton little thief drinking from her personal well of power and immediately sent a spell charging down the strand. Death would come to the whelp in time, but only after the mortal had been eaten from the inside out.

Shar watched the spell as it struck, but instead of taking hold as it should have done, it was absorbed and used to further fuel the little thief's construct even further. The goddess of shadows growled and sent another spell, one with much more power this time, hurtling down the thread. Rather than consuming the offender in a ball of flame, as it should have, the spell was consumed and fed into the cyclone that the changeling had crafted.

Shar felt a sudden tugging sensation. It was small at first, but then it began to grow in strength. The Dark Lady suddenly found herself struggling against an irresistible current. It was all that the goddess could do not to be dragged into the shifting whirlpool of power.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Zuieez V'heron had stalked his prize patiently from the outskirts of the battle. As the numbers dwindled, he watched as her strength followed suit. Soon she would be exhausted, and in that fatal moment he would strike out to claim her as his prize. He had long ago seen that the battle was lost to House Jaerl, but out of every loss there could come a victory. Jarlaxle had taught him that valuable lesson long ago.

He cursed silently as the dwarf and the Silverhand woman made their way to the red headed goddess. There would be no way that he would be able to circumvent their protective watch. Which meant that he would have to distract them somehow…but how to draw them away?

The drow wracked his brain for something…anything! But found only dead ends. His spells were exhausted and all but three of his loyals had been killed, against the likes of Storm Silverhand – even a weary Storm Silverhand – three drow were little more than fodder. The dwarf looked like a solid wall of glimmering mythril. The war hammer that he held cocked at his shoulder was stained with gore, and looked thirsty for more.

Perhaps Zuieez would have to be satisfied with the gift of knowledge in this foray. He had known many of his brethren that had fallen because of hubris and greed. Two centuries of life had taught the drow that one should learn from the mistakes of others, lest he should fall prey to the same traps.

Yes. Patience was the order for today.

Zuieez began to retreat from the field, when something tickled his senses. It was soft at first but it soon became an insistent tug on his spirit, drawing him back to the killing fields. Silver fire danced on an urgent breeze, swirling and corkscrewing enticingly. He had never seen spellfire, but had heard the tales. Magic in its purest form, raw and untouched by the dictates of mortals; it was one of the rarest talents that had ever been discovered.

The drow topped the hill, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight unfolding beneath him. The red haired goddess stood where he had left her, wreathed in a corona of silvery flames that stood off of her body at least five feet in every direction. Combatants were running in every direction, hoping to escape whatever spell was about to be unleashed. Others sought to interrupt her casting by filling her with arrows, only to have them be incinerated well before hitting their target.

He had thought her graceful when she fought, but as she began to dance in a tight spiral Zuieez learned a new definition of grace and power. Cold winds mixed with warm air suddenly as the petite warrior paused in the center of her spiral. Eddies of fog spun around her shapely legs, as she slowly cocked her fist. Something inside of Zuieez snapped, and his sense of self-preservation screamed for him to retreat, to run for his very life.

And he did.

He hastily cast a spell from one of his rings that tore open a door in space, just as her voice echoed throughout the forest. It was a primal scream that he would remember feverishly for the rest of his days. And then there was a roaring wind. The noise was deafening, and its pull was nearly impossible to break free of. He threw himself through the portal and tumbled roughly amongst the roots of a great Weir tree. He felt something snap beneath him, followed closely by a blazing inferno of pain along his right arm.

Had the dimensional door not been opened…had he not already been running through the door, Zuieez knew that he would have died in that accursed place. A moment of panic seized his heart as the wind began to pull him back through the construct. He cursed and scrambled for purchase with his good arm, before severing the connection with the door. Even after the magical doorway had shut, the relentless wind continued to tug at his tattered cloak, drawing his mystified gaze behind him. What he saw numbed his pain and left him feeling terribly small.

"By Vhaeraun's dark mask!"

A pillar of spinning silver fire dominated the night sky, roaring and shaking the earth with a berserker's fury. Even from where Zuieez lay on his back, a mile and more from the event, the shining column pulled at him. Well over a half mile in diameter, the magical cyclone looked like the finger of Selune stabbing angrily into the earth from the moon.

Such power!

He watched, humbled, as trees and bodies danced in the fire's embrace and for the first time questioned the sanity of his vow to enslave the red headed warrior. Her image came unbidden to his mind, and filled him with a lust so powerful that he groaned in longing. He knew that he would never escape the chains that this desire had bound him with. In the end it would destroy him, like so many of his brethren before him.

But Zuieez didn't care. The thought of possessing the haunting power and beauty that this maiden so openly displayed for the entire world to see, made him laugh out loud. She would burn his soul to cinder and ash, and Zuieez laughed all the more. He would make her his own, for a single instant before his death, and the Heavens would be conquered. That alone would earn him a place by Vhaeraun's side.

The drow's mad laughter danced on the roaring winds, and was swept into the dark night.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Mystra felt the unnatural pull on the Weave and immediately cast her sight along the flows. What she found chilled her. Memories of long ago Netheril surfaced, as Mystra relived once again the terror that Karsus had wrought upon Mystryl, her first incarnation. She probed the long perverted magics of Myth Drannor carefully, doing her best to avoid directly confronting Ranma.

"He has tapped into the mythal and the Weave." Mystra's voice sounded more than unsettled. "He is fueling the cyclone directly."

"Sever his connection." Selune's voice was cold and distant.

"If only it were that simple." The Lady of Mysteries struggled with the fear that was beginning to mount in her. She was starting feel Ranma's spirit seeping into the Weave, tainting it. "He has anchored himself to both by way of his spirit. He has effectively bonded himself to both the Weave and the mythal…as well as something else." Uncertainty. "To sever him completely will assuredly kill him."

Both Goddesses instinctually knew that this was a bad thing. Lord Ao had decreed that the three could not to be killed by divine hands or machinations.

"What will you do?" Selune asked with concern.

"Weave the excess energy back into its original form." Frustration. "You will have to convince him to relinquish control. If you cannot, my hand will be forced. Consequences be damned, the Weave must be protected! No matter what the cost!"

Selune looked up at her daughter worriedly. "Why can you not do this thing?"

Mystra's eyes blazed furiously. "If I could have stopped this, I would have already! Anything that I do at this point will rip his soul apart! The fool is filtering the Weave through his spirit! It is corrupting the purity of the Weave." Sweat was standing out on Mystra's forehead, and the corporeal form that she had taken shimmered. The unspoken fact that it was starting to corrupt Mystra was left unsaid.

"He must willingly relinquish control, Selune!"

Selune looked down at the changeling and frowned. She opened herself to his mind and allowed herself to enter the chaotic tumble that was known as Ranma Saotome. Her presence left Mystra's side, and descended to Faerun.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"AO'S EYES!" Mystra screamed as she was subjected to more of Ranma's life. The pain, the loneliness…the constant betrayal! Having been mortal Mystra knew intimately what these things were. But to have one so young endure them…. Let alone thrive!

She was more than impressed. She was curious. More experiences came to fill her need, mingling and blending with her memories. Each success bolstered her. Each victory filled her to bursting with pride! A thousand fights passed through her, won through cunning and skill in the Art. She grinned at the heady feeling.

She was unstoppable. She was the best! No one was going to keep her down! No one! More battles came and went, and a feeling built in Mystra. It was a calm, warm assurance that there was nothing that she could not overcome.

She screamed for the simple joy of it. Defying Heaven and Hell to send their worst at her. She would weather their storms! She would because she was Ranma Saotome!

Across Aber-Toril, spells were augmented to incredible, impossible heights. And for just an instant the entirety of the Weave became visible to the naked eye.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The shadows screamed with Shar's despair. Hopelessness filled her as she fought against the impossible problems laid on her shoulders. How could she honor all of her obligations? How could she not destroy the lives of so many young women? How could she selfishly choose one over all of the others?

One real way out. No courage to accept it.

Shar was being overwhelmed by the despair as it built into an inferno of frustration. She was Ranma Saotome damnit! She wouldn't lose! She would make everything right! Somehow.

It was the first time that Shar had ever felt true hope. Confidence filled her, burned her, and consumed her! She screamed, and all over the face of Aber-Toril, the Shadows screamed with her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"Lady of Mysteries protect us…."

Brailen Roseveil's voice was little more than a whisper, as she and those few lucky enough to find shelter beneath her protective dome huddled together against the onslaught of the spellfire tornado.

Many of her companions took up her mantra at the sound, and added their faith to the prayer, in the hopes that the Goddess of Magic would hear their pleas. Storm Silverhand stood with her hands braced against the magical barrier ignoring the twister's fury as it tore large oaks from their roots, in favor of watching the young woman in the center of the cyclone.

A great keening wail erupted from the darkness around them, as if a thousand voices cried out in pain at once. And, for a single moment, the shield wavered, and then solidified again. And then she heard others gasp and point at the great web that had always been visible to her eyes. Her body felt filled to bursting with magic! Never in her life had she felt so invincible! She fairly glowed with renewed power. She barely noticed that the winds in the area gain strength.

"We're lucky to be in the eye of this beast." Dorn Stonebrow growled beneath his battered helm. The eye in question was over a half mile in diameter, with the defenders' dome anchored less than one hundred and fifty feet from the red headed girl at the center of the tornado. "I would hate to be caught on these winds." Branches and bodies bounced off of Brailen's shield, along with other air born debris.

Storm nodded. "Blessed be the name of Mystra." The swordswoman turned her attention away from the young red headed woman and directed her gaze to Brailen. "How much longer will the dome last?"

Brailen simply stared heaven ward and shook her head in awe.

"Brailen! BRAILEN!"

Storm's angry voice broke the Archmage's reverie.

"How much longer will our shelter hold out?"

"I…I cannot say." She stammered confused at the feelings she was struggling with. Storm's frown caused the Archmage to pale slightly. "Understand Storm, that this…this…phenomenon is composed almost entirely of spellfire. One of the known abilities of Spellfire Channelers is magical absorption."

Brailen cast her eyes to the stationary figure at the center of the tornado and bit her lip nervously; something she hadn't done in over three hundred and forty years.

"For all I know, she's siphoning energy from my construct to fuel hers!"

Storm simply frowned and nodded. She turned her attention to the body of the group and raised her tired voice so that they would hear and understand her instructions.

"Hear me! We've no idea how long our shelter will protect us. We need to create for ourselves a shelter that will defend us from the winds should Brailen's spell fail." As Storm unfolded her plan, her tired soldiers immediately went to work digging a narrow, but deep trench with their weapons and shields. Brailen moved over to stand next to Storm for a moment to watch the red headed girl. She did not move from her position, nor did she lower her arm.

Long moments passed without change, leaving Storm feeling more and more on edge. She shifted her gaze back and forth between her men and the young girl, until at last Brailen distracted her.

"We are lucky that the construct is stationary. I would hate to think of what would have happened if we had been closer to the walls. The spellfire is absorbing the dome's energy." The Archmage grimaced. "We have a quarter hour at best."

Storm did not acknowledge the panic that Brailen's words caused within her, she simply stared out at the young woman blankly. Storm spun on her men, pushing Brailen hurriedly towards the growing trench.

"DIG! For your lives depend on it."

The dome rippled violently for a moment, inspiring a desperate surge of strength and speed amongst the workers. For a good ten minutes everyone dug, using helms, shields, weapons and spells to carve the earth into a hasty, makeshift trench. Three foot deep, slanted at a severe angle, and a little over twelve foot long, Storm knew that the trench was barely adequate. Another ten minutes and perhaps everyone would be safe. Deep in her heart she questioned even that assumption.

As if to mock her fears, there was a cracking sound above, drawing all eyes away from their work. Brailen's face paled, as she was bodily shoved into the bottom of the trench by Storm.

"Wounded in the middle! Heaviest on top! Use what ever means you can to secure yourselves!" Storm's voice barked, eliciting instantaneous action from her warriors. Those that were too awed by the spectacle, stood rooted to their places until the Chosen of Mystra pushed, punched, or kicked them into action. She wouldn't be beaten by this! She was the best damnit! She would retain her honor and the lives of her men!

One giant of a man named Reg refused all of Storm's attempts, ignoring her blows and her curses. The sound of the shield cracking reminded the Harper of a horrible avalanche that she had once narrowly avoided. The noise echoed loudly within the confines of the shield, leaving little doubt that it would soon give way. Desperate, Storm drew her sword and swatted the large man in his posterior, sending him hopping towards the trench post haste. Unfortunately he wasn't moving fast enough for Storm's tastes.

"MOVE YOU BRAINLESS ASS!"

The shield shattered just as the giant fell atop his fellows, well above the lip of the trench. The whole pile groaned – more so as Reg dug his hands deeper into the pile to anchor himself better. Storm never heard their discomfort. The wind howled like a banshee, screaming loud enough to suck every thought from the minds of Shadowdale's defenders. Storm, three steps from the trench, was immediately caught up into the violent embrace of the storm and flung high above her troops.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"He has tapped into the mythal and the Weave." The voice sounded…unsettled. "He is fueling the cyclone directly."

"Sever his connection." The second voice was cold and distant, like the winter moon.

"If only it were that simple." Trepidation laced with fear. "He has anchored himself to both by way of his spirit. He has effectively bonded himself to both the Weave and the mythal…as well as something else." Uncertainty. "To sever him completely will assuredly kill him."

"What will you do?" Mild concern.

"Weave the excess energy back into its original form." Frustration. "You will have to convince him to relinquish control. If you cannot, my hand will be forced. The Weave must be protected."

Grim determination.

Ranma felt the conversation more than she heard it, and knew that she had to get control of herself before it was too late. She felt so lost though; lost amongst the stars and this magnificent web of power! The majesty and the immensity of the feeling were truly overwhelming. The only thing she could liken it to was swallowing the Universe whole with no water to wash it down. If she didn't let go of that vastness, Ranma knew that she would surely choke on it.

She'd been through too damn much to just roll over and die.

She felt tremors dancing along the threads of power that she manipulated, and knew instinctively that she was going to burn herself out soon. She wondered if this was how Ryouga felt all the time; hopelessly lost in the immensity of Creation, and unable to get his bearings. If it was, then she vowed never to call him Lost Boy ever again.

Something, out towards the edge of her creation, tugged on her spirit. It was dark and full of deep, secret pain. The well of lonely hatred probed at Ranma, prodding her spirit carefully. He could feel a curse echoing amongst the shadows cast by the cyclone of silver flames - a curse and something reminiscent of…despairing grief. Then the darkness screamed, and promises of vengeance danced among the silver flames. Ranma saw many things in that moment, most of them unintelligible. But two things he saw very clearly, desire and hatred.

Visions of Ranma's unmaking followed, mingling with the most confusing promises of being held forever in the sweetest of embraces. It made no sense.

Confounding him even more was a second set of emotions. Confidence and power, the likes of which he had never known existed filled him to bursting. And love…such terrifying, endless love. It made him afraid, for he knew that he would be consumed by it; whether he accepted it or not.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Storm screamed out a vicious curse that she had heard Dove use once. It seemed fitting considering the circumstances. She did her best to cover her head with her shield, but the chaotic winds kept catching it like some metal kite. There had been one frightening moment when a gust had nearly torn the safeguard from her grasp. The jarring pain had been so intense that she had thought that her arm was torn from its socket.

Thankfully, it was still serviceable. A fact that she immediately put to use as loose debris pelted her body from behind and above. She wasn't sure how long she could last in the maelstrom, especially considering how useless magic was here.

She prayed to her goddess, and hoped beyond hope that the Lady of Mysteries could hear her. She was the only one that could fully control the Silverfire, and as such was the only one that could save Storm and her companions.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

So many voices filled his head, both benevolent and profane. He tried to shut them out, but found that he could not. They were so loud!

Shut up! He mentally cried. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP! His mental screams went unanswered as the voices continued to grow in volume. Everyone wanted something from him.

A blessing here. Intervention there.

"Sanctify this…."

"Aid me please."

"Help me protect them…."

"Give me the power that I need to fuel the construct."

""Forsake us not Dark Lady, in our hour of need. Bring our enemies low!"

"Grant me fame."

"Accept this offering in our names."

"PLEASE SAVE ME!"

Damnit! He wasn't a god!

GET THE HELL OUTTA MY HEAD! 

"MYSTRA! MOTHER! SAVE ME!" Ranma's eyes flared at the desperate plea. It had seemed so close. Desperation gave way to fear, filling Ranma with a sense of his own desperation.

Can you save her? The voice seemed to sooth the demands of all the other voices, crowding them into a sort of white noise in the back of Ranma's mind. It helped anchor and focus him again. He struggled for a moment to find his center. Yet, everything where he looked, he only found stars. Millions upon millions of stars pulling at him, calling to him, worshipping him…

He turned away from the starscape and closed his eyes. But the whispering voices yet remained.

"Please…Mother of Magic…." The desperation was gone, leaving only a calm acceptance in its wake. "Please accept my soul unto your bosom."

Can you save her? The calm, motherly voice asked again.

Despair filled Ranma's soul. He couldn't do it all damnit! Why couldn't the stupid tomboy save herself for once? Yeah he could save her! So what? She got herself into this mess so let her get herself out! He was tired of having to do everything!

Ranma opened his eyes and stared out into the emptiness of a terrifying void. The whispered petitions were gone, replaced by millions of moaning and weeping voices. The loss and hopelessness nearly swallowed him.

Will you save her? The voice asked. Ranma blinked at the change of wording in the question. The words were backed with a sincere need. Ranma turned again and found his vision divided. To his right, an infinite number of stars twinkled into forever. And to his left, a black emptiness so profound loomed.

Standing between the two, bridging them was a soft, silver light. And the light spoke.

Will you save her? Images poured into his mind from one bright star. Memories of a thousand tears and even more joyful songs danced in his mind. A face, as foreign to him as it was familiar coalesced into sharp focus before him.

Storm. His daughter. One of many that he loved dearly. The one that liked to laugh and sing with children…the Silverhand. His beloved daughter. Ranma reached for her star and the world exploded into a myriad of sights and sounds.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The winds buffeted Ranma-chan as she struggled to remain stable in the direct center of the cyclone. Above her, uprooted trees spun crazily amongst unearthed stone and dead bodies. A flash of silver hair caught Ranma's eye above her and to her left.

Ranma didn't think she simply reacted. Her legs bunched and in an explosion of energy, she vaulted into the air. Her aura burned brighter, drawing energy from the cyclone to push against the raging air currents that sought to push her back to the earth. It felt like swimming against the tide for a moment, and then she was literally blazing across the intervening space.

She could see the silvery flames dancing off of her arms, as she streamlined her body for more speed. Had she not been so intent on the knotted ball of fear spinning out of control before her, she would have been laughing her head off. This was a blast!

Ranma immediately recognized the silver haired woman from before, and angled herself slightly to scoop the swordswoman into her arms. The panic she had felt wafting off the woman subsided into something akin to wonder, but Ranma's attention was riveted elsewhere.

A tall white haired woman had materialized directly before her, hovering without regard for the chaos around her. Her clothes were motionless in the wind, as was her hair - which in and of itself creeped the hell out of Ranma.

Her aura was, for lack of a better term, light. Its size was incalculable, stretching beyond the horizon and dwarfing the petty little cyclone that Ranma had given birth to. Compared to this woman, Saffron was nothing more than a child. No. He was more like a gnat zit on Cologne's butt.

Shiver! 

Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best comparison to make.

Ranma shook herself and directed her attention back to the entity. The most magnificent discovery she made in that brief glimpse was that the darkness that most men and women allowed to shadow their souls was non-existent. She was clean, bright and pure. Just like a new born.

Greetings to you Geijutsu-ka. 

Ranma was shocked on many levels. The first was hearing a voice in his head. The second was the fact that this immensely powerful woman inclined her head to him. And final shock was the simple idea that she had just named him "Artist". It seemed so hollow when compared to the purity that the woman before him possessed.

You have saved the one, but can you save the others? She pointed to the huddled survivors of the battle struggling to remain packed into their trench. Ranma's brow furrowed as she tried to puzzle out how to get them to safety. Tears of frustration began forming in her eyes after many moments of fruitless searching. She could possibly reach them, if he left this woman to her fate. Perhaps she could get ten or so to safety…perhaps.

He clutched the frightened woman closer possessively, unable to accept the impossibility of saving all their lives.

Let go Ranma-san. Let go of the fury that gives this creation life. Save these few, that others might find peace. 

A gentle, luminescent hand, the color of milk caressed Ranma's face, soothing her rage. The woman's voice was so calming, so tender. A gentle warmth filled Ranma's heart, replacing the cold anger that she had felt before. How many nights had she dreamed of a voice like that; one that would protect him from the cats, and comfort him in his hours of need?

The only name for her was "Mother".

The winds calmed, lowering Ranma and his passenger slowly to the ground. Her eyes never left the matronly woman, until at last all that he could see was a shimmering outline, barely visible against the fullness of the moon. When Ranma's feet finally touched the ground, she could no longer point out the figure, but there was no doubt that she was near by, watching over them.

Ranma gently set her passenger onto her feet with a heavy sigh, before passing out face first onto the ground.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Storm stood panting over the young woman. Her hair was mussed, and her body was liberally bruised. She watched as white and black lightning coursed up and down the red head's body once, before disappearing altogether. She sank to her knees in the mud beside the girl and rolled the petite warrior onto her back.

Brailen and many of her men gathered around her. Dorn scratched his muddy beard and shook his head in puzzlement.

"Burn me beard Storm, but I could'a sworn that the lass was human."

"Aye Master Dorn. You and I both."

Storm did not look at the olive skinned elf maid's perfect features. Her eyes wandered to the hole torn in the woman's shirt instead. Over each breast lay a stylized tattoo, one for Selune and one for Shar. But directly over her heart, separating the two was a symbol that looked a great deal like Mystra's. Yet instead of seven stars circling around the mists of the Weave, there were eight.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The Ivy Mansion, Longsaddle 

Usagi woke to the sound of Noon Bell, which to her mind didn't sound very much like a bell at all. In fact, it sounded very much like Luna when Usagi would accidentally step on her tail. It had to have been one of the most disconcerting, and most heart wrenching sounds that she had ever heard.

Thinking of Luna brought rise to an emptiness that felt overwhelming. She didn't know what she was going to do without her friends to guide her. Sure, she was supposed to be their princess, but she had clearly demonstrated time and again that a simple title did not make a person special. She had fought a sudden bout of homesickness for the remainder of the hour. She tried not to cry, and for the most part succeeded.

Her only solace was in the fact that she had gotten here somehow, which meant that there was surely a way to get home. All she had to do was find it. It wasn't much of a confidence builder, but it kept the tears at bay. And for that, she was grateful.

She simply sat and stared blankly at the room about her, for over half the next hour, seeing the room but not really acknowledging it. It was only after her stomach growled that she noticed a covered tray on a table that stood between two tall freestanding mirrors. Pushing away her sadness for the time, she settled at the table and quietly ate her fill.

The muffins, she decided, were exceptional - on par, if not above Makoto's best. The baked chicken seemed a bit much for a morning meal, but Usagi didn't complain. The seasons were wonderfully blended and the chicken was very juicy. The fruits were a bit smaller and not as sweet as she was used to, but she ate them readily enough. The only thing that left a really odd taste in her mouth was the odd porridge.

And for once in her life, Usagi found herself not finishing her meal. Had her mother been there, she would have endured no end of fussing and motherly concern. Usagi not finishing a meal was tantamount to the world ending after all. The blonde chuckled lightly and settled herself deeper in the soft back chair in order to finally take stock of her surroundings.

The room was plush, and comfortably decorated in a spring, floral motif. The furniture looked to be grown rather than carved and the drapes were a fine sky blue silk that diffused the light as it passed through a tall window. It was like being in some really fancy hotel room or something. Her thoughts drifted into a naughty little fantasy about Mamo-chan and the honeymoon suite at the Tokyo Hilton.

The fantasy slowly faded, leaving Usagi more depressed than she had been before. She could just imagine Luna chastising her. "You should be looking for a way home! People are counting on you!" The displaced Moon Princess sighed haltingly as she stood. In some cases Luna was right. People were counting on her. Usagi didn't understand how or why she had earned their trust – she wasn't princess material. But whether she was or wasn't, she did have an obligation to her friends. And she couldn't fulfill that obligation lying around all day.

With that in mind, she strode up to the room's elegant mirror and grumbled at the rat's nest that her hair had become. She frowned doubtfully at the mess, and wondered how long it was going to take to untangle. One of these days she was going to cut it short, like Ami or Haruka – just so that she didn't have to deal with the weight or the hassle. She closed her eyes and began to daydream about Mamo-chan's potential reaction.

As if reading her thoughts, Usagi's reflection slowly began to change. Her hair shortened and styled itself to match the mental picture Usagi had conjured. After a few moments of fluctuation, the reflection finally settled on one image. Usagi opened her eyes and blinked at what was looking back at her.

Her first reaction was to feel for the hair that seemed to be missing. She sighed in relief as her hand brushed through her thick silky hair. She turned her gaze back to the mirror, and marveled at just how sexy it made her look. There was a sense of maturity about the image that empowered her. Yet, Usagi couldn't bring herself to take the plunge. It had taken so long to get her hair to this point, to cut it all off was…well, just plain weird! Someday she would do it, just not today.

Usagi tapped her lips thoughtfully for a moment as she studied the image before her. She smiled happily and put her hands on her hips, only to have her reflection tilt its head cutely and smile.

"What do you think, Beautiful?" The reflection spoke with her voice!

"HOLY CRAP!" Usagi scrambled backwards, falling and tripping over chairs, tables, and finally the bed before coming to settle in a heap of blankets opposite the mirror. It took forever to untangle herself from the plum colored quilt, but finally she was able to cautiously make her way back to the mirror.

She blinked as her likeness came back into view. Her reflection blinked a full five count after she did. Usagi blinked again, but this time her reflection smiled widely and spun around in the mirror.

"Do you like it?"

Usagi nodded dumbly.

"Would you like to look like this today?" Usagi shook her head causing her likeness to frown with disappointment. After a moment though, the excited grin was back, along with another hairdo. "How about this?"

Usagi had seen a beehive before, but never in a thousand years thought that she would see herself with one…well, sort of. She curled her lip and shook her head.

"But its great for formal celebrations!" Her image protested.

"But I don't think I'm going to a formal celebration today." Usagi countered. The image paused thoughtfully.

"Oh. Well, how about this?" Makoto had insisted on watching "The Bride of Frankenstein" once, citing that it was a highbrow romance. Everyone had teased Usagi that she should dress up like the bride for the school festival, and she almost had. Now she remembered why she hadn't. Blonde hair didn't look good in an afro.

"I don't think so."

"But this is what the Court of Evermeet was wearing last season!"

"I don't belong to the court of Evermeet though." Usagi protested.

"Ahhhh…." Her reflection nodded sagely. "You want something more traditional then." Usagi gasped as her reflection's hair began to braid itself in long thin braids, adorned with a rainbow of colorful ribbons and silver bells. Her brow was crowned with a laurel of silver ivy that looked as if it had been grown rather than cast from metal.

"Wooooooow!" Usagi's voice came out in a low whisper.

"You like? It's what you wore to the Festival of Falling Stars on your fifteenth birthday."

"It is?" Usagi asked with a whisper. Her reflection nodded and spun around.

"Shall we fix you up then?"

"You can do that?" Her reflection grinned, and without further ado Usagi's hair was untangled and braided. No pulling, no tugging, no split ends – and it had taken less than five minutes! She liked this place! Usagi simply marveled at the soft chiming that her hair made as she spun and giggled softly.

"The look suits you."

Usagi gasped and spun to greet the owner of the new voice. She had seen a great many strange things in her life: demon women made entirely out of pastries, talking cats, and bratty daughters from the future. But in all the time that she had fought as Sailor Moon, she had never come across a woman whose skin looked to be made entirely out of polished jade. Her hair was cut short, in a feathered a-line fashion, giving a wonderful view of her elegant, long neck. Her deep black eyes spoke of hidden things; secrets buried deep within the heart of the earth.

"YOUMA!" Her broach was out and she was transformed in record time. To her credit (and thanks in great part to the young woman's high pitched screaming protests that she was not a youma – whatever that was), Usagi didn't blast the jade woman into oblivion.

"What the heck are you?" Usagi had meant to say "who", but the shock of being surprised caused her manners to fly out the window. The jade skinned woman looked offended, causing Usagi to blush at her rudeness.

"If you must know, I am Genasi. One half Isherine Dao, one quarter human, and one quarter elf." The jade skinned woman snorted. "What are you?"

Usagi chuckled weakly and shrugged. "Human through and through."

The woman raised an eyebrow at Usagi and chuckled. "I seriously doubt that."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" Usagi narrowed her eyes.

"Come now, you've the taint of divinity about you. Surely you're Plane-touched." The Genasi tapped her pale green lips thoughtfully. "Aasimar assuredly."

Usagi wasn't sure what the other girl was talking about, or even if she should be offended or not. So she simply settled herself on a small chair before the mirror watched as the Genasi (whatever that was) went to another part of the room and pulled a sheet from another mirror.

"The former occupant of this room had a propensity of being a slug-a-bed. She was terribly vain, and hated rising before the fourth afternoon bell." The jade woman smiled at Usagi and beckoned her over. After a moment's hesitation, the blonde girl made her way over. The green woman gently maneuvered Usagi in front of the full-length dressing mirror. "She had these mirrors enchanted in order to aid her in preparing for what was left of the day."

The jade skinned woman grinned and clapped her hands.

"Spring fashions from Waterdeep, please." Usagi's grin swelled as her reflection was suddenly draped in a comfortable looking, sleeveless gown. The color was a light blue that matched Usagi's eyes.

"Next please." A second dress, a pale coral pink with elbow length sleeves shimmered into existence. The Genasi shook her head in distaste. "Something in white please." A diaphanous sundress, with copious amounts of lace, replaced the previous dress, causing Usagi to coo with delight.

"Turn slowly please." The reflection responded accordingly, without Usagi's aid, affording both women the opportunity to admire how the dress seemed to hug in all the right places without giving too much away. The dainty white slippers and sheer white shawl made for a perfect outfit.

"This one, definitely."

The jade woman smiled approvingly and nodded. Usagi gasped as her pajamas dissolved into a pale white smoke that disappeared into the mirror, leaving her all but naked for a moment. She blushed, but noted that her new acquaintance had turned away. The bare feeling lasted only an instant, before she was fully clothed in her newly acquired dress. The Genasi clapped three times, and the mirror went blank.

"Wow!" Weird perverts and homesickness aside, Usagi was starting to like this place. Her jade attendant simply smiled. The displaced heroine grew thoughtful for a moment, and then turned to the jade woman.

"Uhm, will I get my pajamas back?"

"Pajamas?" The green woman asked quizzically. Usagi pointed to the mirror worriedly. The Genasi giggled girlishly, reminding Usagi of a curious mixture of Minako and Ami. "Assuredly! You simply have to clap twice and ask for sleep wear."

Usagi nodded and blushed, suddenly remembering her manners. She bowed deeply to the young woman. "Thank you for letting me borrow the dress. I don't think I would have felt comfortable running around in my pajamas."

"Borrowing? Nonsense! The dress is a gift, along with the room. Uncle DelRoy has made it known to the rest of the Mansion that you are to be a guest until such a time as you can either be returned to your home, or until you decide to leave."

"But…but…! You don't even know me!" Usagi boggled. After a long moment she felt extremely guilty. "I can't accept such a large gift."

The Genasi frowned playfully and stepped directly in front of the young blonde.

"You can and you will." She said matter-of-factly. There was no arguing with the young woman as she adjusted Usagi's shawl. "You are far from home, with no one to care for you. We Harpells cannot allow for such an injustice to stand." She paused long enough to gently lift Usagi's chin with a finger.

"I am Ulin Shemzarida Hashpida Harpell. You are Tsukino Usagi." She grinned. "There, we are no longer strangers. Now, you will tell me of how you came to be in cousin Hevig's bed. Is it true that he sleeps in the nude?"

Usagi blushed as she was carefully led from her room. It didn't take long for the two to become fast acquainted, and soon the inhabitants of the Harpell Estate were blessed with the sight of two beautiful women laughing and giggling as they walked down the halls.

Usagi pestered her new friend with questions about the Ivy Mansion and its inhabitants as they toured the grounds, and was forced (under duress) to recount her encounter with Hevig Harpell again for a group of younger cousins who seemed to enjoy nothing but gossip. She passed all of the alchemy shops, and crafting rooms, the forge and a library the likes of which she had never seen.

Ami would have drooled!

She met Matherly Harpell, or rather his statue, and Bidderdoo; who had been at one time Ulin's fourth cousin, but thanks to a bad mix of potions was now a cute, but scruffy looking werewolf. Ulin answered every question put to her, and dazzled Usagi with wondrous stories of magic and romance. It was enough to make her feel right at home.

Well, almost.

"Forgive the intrusion ladies." A smartly dressed young man with violet hair bowed to both women as they were about to leave the house. "I've been instructed to escort you to Master DelRoy's study."

Usagi felt her tummy fill with butterflies and smiled at Ulin. Had DelRoy already found her a way home? She knew that it was a lot to hope for, but she couldn't help it.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Gainsburrow Abbey, Lantan 

Keiichi woke feeling weak and empty. His head no longer throbbed as it had, but there was a definite tender spot just above his left eye that gave him no amount of trouble when he touched it. All in all, he felt remarkably well, considering the fact that he was still in the same room he had been. The only real difference was the fact that the sun was up, and a plate of covered food sat across the room on a small round table.

The room itself was rather Spartan. Save for the table, there was a single chair, a bookcase full of hand bound books, and a small chest at the foot of his bed. Draped across the chair was a set of woolen robes, much like the ones Evendur had worn the night before. They were simple, serviceable, and most of all warm. Keiichi could tolerate their itchiness in favor of finally having clothes to wear again. The one thing he wished for, that seemed conspicuously absent, were a nice thick pair of socks.

The stone floor was bitter cold.

He ate his meal quickly, letting nothing of the western style breakfast go to waste. The meal, consisting of a sweet porridge, a slice of hard crusted bread, two slices of cooked ham, and a glass of an odd tasting milk hit the spot. With his stomach full and warm, Keiichi allowed himself the opportunity to browse the bookshelf. To his dismay, each volume was scribed in a very foreign language that eluded him.

"So much for a distraction." He mumbled settling back into the chair. For quite some time he simply sat, wondering at what cruel twist of Fate his life had taken, while staring out the window. He saw Evendur and another man talking over something that Evendur held beside a small stonewall. The room suddenly seemed to weigh on him, making him feel the need to stretch his legs.

"Well, it's not like I've got anything better to do." He smiled wryly to himself and stood.

He walked slowly to the door and opened it, only to be bowled over by a walking stack of books. He heard some one squawk as the tower of tomes toppled. He tried to escape, but found himself effectively buried beneath their weight. He heard someone apologizing profusely as they scrambled to gather the books. Keiichi gathered himself with a quiet smile and carefully began picking up the tomes that were within reach.

"No harm done…." His voice trailed off as he came face to face with a blushing Sister Maerdith. She was just a little older than he, approaching her late twenties at best. Her chestnut colored hair was pulled back into a severe braid that was wrapped about her head twice. Her light complexion was dotted with freckles, and her lips were pointed up in a soft smile. He winced, but she quickly averted her pale blue eyes to the floor and sped up her efforts to reclaim her lost cargo.

"I am terribly sorry Master Keiichi. I shouldn't have been carrying so many." Maerdith's face was aflame, as was Keiichi's.

"Here, let me help." He offered, gathering half the stack into his arms and standing.

"No, I couldn't. You should be resting!" Keiichi shrugged her off and laughed.

"Nonsense. I receive worse from Skuld all the time."

"Skuld? Sounds northern. Is he from Icewindale?" Keiichi shook his head.

"She's my…uhm…Belldandy's little sister. They're from…well, from where I'm from." He quirked his brow and pursed his lips to make sure that that had come out correctly.

"Belldandy?"

"My…girlfriend." He supplied.

"Girlfriend…?" The word tumbled off of Sister Maerdith's lips oddly.

"Heh. Yeah." Keiichi blushed.

"So this girl, Skuld was it?" She asked starting to walk down the hall, not bothering to look back at Keiichi. "I take it that she doesn't like you very much." Keiichi scrambled to keep up with the cleric.

"Well, uhm…she's rather protective of her sister, and she doesn't, uhm…approve of our…relationship."

Sister Maerdith nodded, looking fairly uncomfortable. She had never fancied herself particularly (ahem) worldly, but she had read quite a bit. It wasn't hard to guess why this Skuld had it in for Master Keiichi. After all, he had shown up in the middle of services bare as the day he was born. She coughed into her hand in order to clear her mind of the images that kept squirming their way in.

"So, uh, Master Keiichi. Tell me about this Belldandy of yours."

Keiichi smiled wanly.

"Uhm, there's not much to say really." He hedged. "She's the most beautiful woman in the world, sweet, devoted, humble…."

Sister Maerdith listened to the string of adjectives for two full flights of long stairs, before Keiichi finally wound down.

"She sounds like a very magical creature Master Keiichi."

Keiichi stopped dead in his tracks with a panicked, stricken look and began to laugh forcefully. "Magical…heh heh. What makes you say that?" Sister Maerdith narrowed her eyes thoughtfully, causing him to sweat and berate himself. He was going to strangle Urd and Mara when he got back, even if it cost him his life! How was he supposed to explain his arrival to a bunch of monks?

"It's the way that you describe her Master Keiichi. She seems very delightful. You must love her very much." Maerdith manipulated a heavy oak door, and pushed into a rather large library. As she set her books down on one of the large tables, she chanced to look back at her helper, only to see a wistful grin splitting his face.

"…love her…yeah." She idly noticed a thin trickle of blood dribble from his nose before he passed out from sensory overload. The grin never left his face. Perhaps she had hit him too hard.

Then again, maybe he was weird in the head already….

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The Ivy Mansion, Longsaddle 

Usagi wiggled her eyebrows at Ulin as their guide slowly brought them before DelRoy's study. Annon was one of the many apprentices that came to Longsaddle every year, in order to learn from such masters as DelRoy, Fengdur, and Jaelith Harpell. Ulin admitted conspiratorially that Annon was wonderful to look at, but that was about the extent of his charms. Usagi wasn't sure what "kissing like a bullywug" meant, but it didn't sound very flattering. Annon knocked twice, waited for DelRoy to acknowledge him, and then opened the doors for the ladies.

Ulin motioned for Usagi to enter first, and the followed two steps behind. The sight of her tired uncle gave her pause, but DelRoy made no motion to acknowledge her presence. His attention was fully riveted to Usagi.

"Please. Sit." His voice was too serious for Ulin's liking. She watched the other girl carefully and could immediately see that her new friend was already fighting back tears. DelRoy carefully removed his reading glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"There is no easy way to explain this my dear." He said at last. "So, I will simply get right to the point." He waited for Usagi to nod her head before continuing. "Any action takes energy to perform. To magically move from one place to another takes a great deal of energy. So much so that there is always a residual trace left behind – breadcrumb trails if you will. For those with the correct spells, a trail can be followed back to its source."

Usagi nodded intently.

"However, in our attempts to follow your trail we have run into a small problem."

The blonde haired girl bit her lip. Ulin could easily see that her friend could not voice the question that she so desperately needed to ask, so she asked for her.

"What type of problem Uncle?" The elder Harpell sighed weightily and laced his fingers together.

"Simply put, Mistress Usagi left us no trail to follow."

"How can that be?" Ulin demanded. DelRoy shrugged and thumbed a pinch of sweet smelling tobacco into his pipe.

"The Lady of Mysteries keeps her secrets close to her heart." The elder Harpell leveled a weighty look in Usagi's direction. "And it seems that Mistress Usagi here is one of those closely guarded secrets."

"What does that mean?" Usagi asked in a tremulous voice. She felt tears building but did her best to act like Makoto and Rei. They wouldn't cry. They would stubbornly weather whatever life threw at them.

"Well, child…" DelRoy silently cursed himself. He hated being the bearer of bad news. He coughed into his hand and took a deep breath. "My brothers and I have used some of the most powerful spells known to wizardry in our search to uncover your mystery. Mind you now, we Harpells don't like unanswered questions. So, rest assured that there are more than a few of us that will be working diligently to rectify your problem." He smiled warmly at Usagi as she began to fidget in her high backed chair. Her crest fallen countenance broke his aged heart.

"So," Usagi's voice caught in her throat as she tried to force the words out. "So, what you're saying is that you don't know how to get me home."

DelRoy blinked and chuckled drawing Usagi's gaze.

"Not at all my dear girl! I'm certain that we can get you home, but we are having problems finding out where home is!" DelRoy was pleased to see a glimmer of hope return to the young woman's eyes. "Take heart Mistress Usagi. We've still a few spells up our sleeves, not to mention a few contacts that we can call on should the need arise. Rest assured that we will find a way to get you back home. There's no question that a Harpell cannot answer given enough time."

Usagi wiped her eyes and quickly ran around the old man's desk and buried him in a giant hug. Ulin watched with a small smile and wondered if the Harpells would find the answer to Usagi's dilemma in this lifetime.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Gainsburrow Abbey, Lantan 

"Brethren and sisters, we close this day giving thanks to Ohgma for deeper insight into ourselves and into the Universe around us. Tonight I will read from _The Stranger's Path,_ as written by Jalduth of the Evening Star."

Keiichi sat beside Evendur listening intently to Learned Father Ellosin conduct the evening ritual of Covenant. It had been a fairly engaging day after he had settled in with Evendur. They had spoken at length about Earth, and openly questioned Keiichi's method of travel to the Abbey. Sister Maerdith seemed intent to avoid him, which seemed appropriate as far as Keiichi was concerned. The auburn haired woman was pleasant, in a bland sort of way, but seemed more interested in uprooting the truth behind Keiichi's arrival at the Abbey.

He had spent considerable time touring the Abbey and the surrounding grounds, enjoying the day and the weather amidst all of the curious questioning that Evendur's fellows hounded him with. Not that he minded the attention. He was concerned that someone was going to pick up on his half-truths and press him for the real story though.

"The day winds long,

And fear has grown short.

Our bodies are as strong,

As our stride is long."

It had been an enlightening day to be certain. Keiichi had learned a little about the area that he was in, specifically that the Gainsburrow Abbey was a retreat of sorts for the clergy of Ohgma. Since he had never heard of the deity, he had made the mistake of asking about the religion and was soon inundated with the precepts of Ohgma from Evendur and his brethren for over three hours.

The island itself was considered a haven for those of a more technological mind, which intrigued Keiichi to no end. He had seen a few inventions, and met a few new people, including the Learned Father. That had been an eye opener. He had met some intelligent people in his life, especially at Nekomi Tech, but none of them had been as wise as Ellosin. Upon meeting the statuesque elf Keiichi had merely boggled. It was one thing to read about them in Manga, and another thing entirely to meet them in person. The interview with the elf had been nerve wracking at first, but he had accepted Keiichi's story at face value. Keiichi had stumbled across many of the more fantastic races: gnomes, dwarves, a halfling or three. He even met a rather grumpy half-orc named Hegral One-eye. The encounter was a bit scary at first, but Hegral soon turned out to a rather polite and insightful fellow.

"We seek truth to set us free,

And yet bind ourselves to wisdom's tree."

Keiichi's interview had ended warmly, for the most part. As he was leaving Ellosin's study, the white haired elf put a slender hand on the boy's shoulder and smiled. "All secrets are known to Ohgma Keiichi. And they are all revealed in their season. Don't be afraid of the truth." Keiichi knew right then and there that Ellosin had pierced the veil of half-truths that he had spun about him. Keiichi could also read the invitation to share his secret, no matter how crazy it might sound.

"The Past, her face is bold.

Filled with secrets of years untold.

Which brought the displaced mechanic to a conundrum. Should he reveal his past? Or should he continue to hide himself until Belldandy and the Ultimate Force managed to rescue him?

"The Future, so young and pure,

Dresses our hopes with the wreath of allure."

Maybe he would tell Ellosin. That would be safe enough. The worst that they could do, was kick him out of the Abbey. Given his lack of knowledge about the surrounding area, local politics, and the extreme lack of technology, this would be a bad thing. Bad, but livable.

"But in the Present we dance upon the wings of need,

And upon the Stranger's Path do we feed."

Keiichi watched as everyone bowed their heads, as if preparing for prayer. He mimicked them clumsily, while Ellosin continued the Covenant.

"Oh great Ohgma, Father of Truth. We dedicate our knowledge unto thee."

Keiichi was ashamed to admit that he had never really set foot in a church before, with the exception of a shrine or two; and nothing in his life had prepared him for the slow torture of a long winded orator. Not even Urashimi-Sensei had been able to go on for this long! The prayer continued for several more minutes before Ellosin finished. By the time that he had, Keiichi's bottom and right leg had fallen asleep. Keiichi had hoped that everyone would get up, but from the looks of it, they were simply settling in! Keiichi began to panic as Ellosin stretched his back slightly, but otherwise did not move.

"Ohgma reveals himself in many ways. He teaches us through many voices. Today we have amongst our number a new voice, and with that voice comes new knowledge. Please stand Master Keiichi and share something about yourself and your life."

Keiichi felt every eye on him, weighing him down. He looked at Evendur, the man's Santa Claus face smiling broadly. He looked into Sister Maerdith's eyes and saw nothing but a hunger for new knowledge. Each of the faces that he looked at next, held the same expectation. At last, he looked at Learned Father Ellosin and knew that he couldn't hide the truth from the tall, regal elf anymore. Any lie that he might spin would surely be seen through, and that was an injustice that Belldandy wouldn't stand for.

She hated liars and if Keiichi lied, then she would hate him. He couldn't betray her. He tried to get his blood flowing into his lower extremities as he stood. He bit back a grimace, as his legs became pincushions for a million invisible needles.

"Uhm, good evening. I am Morisato Keiichi."

Way to go Morisato! His voice made sound like was visiting some sort of support group for the very first time. He began to scratch the back of his neck.

"Something about my life…." He laughed hollowly and coughed in his hand, as he summoned the courage to do what needed to be done. "Well, it all started when I was taking messages for my upperclassmen. You see, I got really hungry and decided to order take out."

Over the next two hours he had a spellbound audience as he told an abbreviated version of his life with Belldandy and her sisters. The trials of being in love with a goddess, and ultimately of how he had no idea how or why he had ended up here, bereft of clothes. As his tale ended, he smiled weakly and sat down – mostly because his trembling legs wouldn't support him any longer.

He waited in silence for the laughter to come. But it never did. He looked up at the men and women seated around him, and to his supreme discomfort he found the staring at him – not with disbelief, but with confusion. The entire congregation seemed unsure of whether to bow to him or not. It was Ellosin that finally broke the impasse.

"We have been brought knowledge from afar." His voice was calm and unshaken. It was too bad that his eyes didn't seem as confident. "You have felt the truth of it." Everyone nodded.

Ellosin turned his attention back to Keiichi and bowed deeply at the waist.

"We welcome you to the Halls of Learning, Morisato Keiichi, Beloved of Belldandy. The Father of Truth has sent you to us for a reason, and we therefore extend to you our hospitality for as long as you wish to stay. We pray to the Father of Truth that your time here will be enlightening for us all."

Keiichi stood and bowed deeply to the Learned Father and then to the rest of the congregation as well.

"Thank you for opening your home to me."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**End Chapter Two**_


	3. Chapter 3

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer**:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Note:**

Ghandalf is a wizard's wizard, but I've yet to come across a mage quiet as approachable as Elminster. He's the James Bond of Mages – suave debonair, and gets all the chicks. I won't knock Fizban, or any other spelltosser, but Elminster is far and beyond my favorite. Thanks to dear old Ed for dreaming him up! Here's hoping that I do him justice.

Special thanks goes out to Treavor Bland who did a lot of research and found that Bidderdoo was not a dog but a werewolf…. Big difference in appetite there. The change befell the poor Harpell with a bad potion mishap during the Time of Troubles. I'll be making the change in the revision at the end of the series. Thanks Treavor! Special thanks go out to all of you who have been so supportive in your emails.

Also, a note about continuity here: End of manga for Ranma. Sailor Moon will be a slight mix of the manga and anime. Usagi has been using the Ginzuisho for some time now, but I do not think that she actively understands the mechanics behind the artifact. The power is there, but it's used intuitively rather than consciously. For Keiichi, I'm mixing OAV's and manga continuity – specifically the A!MG movie with Celestine and the Judgment Gate. For those that haven't seen it, I highly suggest it.

Enjoy!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Realms

Chapter Three

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Shadowdale**

South of Old Skull, there was a peculiar tower. Some thought it to be little more than an old grain silo; others thought it a decrepit windmill. Those that lived in the area knew it as the Meddler's Tower, and it was the sanctuary of Faerun's most powerful mortal.

If Elminster had heard such a title, he would have scoffed.

Peculiar yes.

Eccentric definitely.

Powerful?

He would readily admit to tossing a spell or three in his day, but he had also been around long enough to understand the meaning of true power. Very few understood or even subscribed to his idea that such overwhelming power came in the small everyday decisions that one makes. It was one of the reasons that many loved him and so many more absolutely hated him. Storm and her entourage counted themselves among the former distinction.

It had taken them four days of answering questions, hard work, and slow riding to reach this rather remote part of the Dale, and Storm was feeling every mile at this moment. The defenders halted wearily before the weathered tower and drank in its plainness.

It had taken them the remainder of the evening and well into midday following the battle to dispatch the wounded drow and reclaim their own dead and wounded from the devastation of their mysterious savior's spell. The support from Ashabenford had arrived to aid in the search efforts for survivors, but that had been some time late in the afternoon. Those that had survived the night silently thanked Selune and any other gods that came to mind for the comatose elf girl's timely arrival. There was little doubt what the company's fate would have been otherwise.

The Fordmen were tired from their march, but went about the grim task of sorting the dead from the living while others tended the wounded. To Storm's surprise, there had been many warm bodies on both sides. More drow blood flowed as the ragtag remnants of the invaders returned to the battlefield, only to retreat back into the shrouded mists of Cormanthor when the Fordmen discovered them. The rabble had taken their fair share of Fordmen with them though.

It had taken time, but all of the defenders were bundled into carts and wagons, dead or alive, to be returned to their families as heroes. It was clearly a victory for Shadowdale, and it all could be laid at the feet of a child-warrior with blazing red hair.

There was little doubt that Storm would be composing songs and tales about this one for years to come. She motioned for Reg to carefully lift the sleeping girl out of the cart, while she and Brailen gathered their things and moved up the flagstone path, toward the home of Toril's most renowned and feared wizard: Elminster, the Magister.

"You should warn the girl about the Old Mage the first chance you get." Brailen smiled impishly.

"How so?" Storm said tiredly as she waved the driver on to the tower's stables. She had tried to sleep on the ride down from Maigan's Hill, but the sun combined with the ruts in the road did little to aid her rest. At the moment she longed for nothing more than a warm bath, a hot meal, and the softness of a real bed. She could smell fresh bread baking within the Tower and wondered if Valor, El's newest apprentice had made enough for everyone.

"Old Graybeard will charm her out of her petticoats before her stay is done." Brailen sneered. "He enjoys red hair and curves as much as any man."

Storm snorted and shook her head. "What petticoats?" She rolled her eyes and chuckled, more so at Reg's suddenly blushing face. "I will try and give the young lady all of the forewarning I can."

"I dare say it won't be enough!" Brailen laughed.

Storm chuckled wearily herself as she raised her knuckles to the door. She had not even the chance to knock before the door swung open to reveal a very imposing man. His physicality was none too impressive, but the authority and poise that he maintained clearly hinted at a deep well of power sleeping lightly within him. He was the very image of the consummate wizard – hawkish nose, weathered skin tanned from years of travel, ink stained fingertips, long gray beard, and eyes so piercing that they seemed to cut to the soul.

"And ye would be right Brailen Roseveil. But if memory serves correctly, I wasn't the one to sneak into thy bed during the dead of night!" Brailen blushed to her toes. "As much as a fond memory warms the heart, child, it seems that more than one among ye is in need of a bed." He snorted disdainfully and knuckled his mustache. "By Mystra's silver flame, just about anything will wash up on the shore these days!" He motioned curtly for the group to enter before either could open their mouths to speak.

Storm and Brailen grinned at the playful gruffness in the man's tone. The giant Reg looked as if he would bolt for the countryside at any moment. Where wizards were concerned it was a very sensible attitude. The Old Mage himself had said so on many an occasion. Elminster smiled warmly up at the man and again motioned for the group to enter.

"Come in, be welcome, and find thy peace in my home. Mind some of the plants though, I haven't had time to feed them this week and they're getting rather unsettled." Reg gulped, Brailen tittered, and Storm made sure that her sword was still within easy reach before crossing the wizard's threshold. Normally El was safe to be around, but again, with wizards one could never tell.

Storm shook her head and smiled. Sharp tongue and sharper wit, none bested or surprised Elminster. She gathered her bags and gently nudged Brailen forward causing the Archmage to stumble from her giggles and into the tower proper. As Reg lumbered forward Elminster raised a hand to the tall man, causing him to pull up short lest he trod the mage under his muddy boots.

"A moment of thy time my gentle giant." The mage stepped up to Reg, and stared deeply into the face of the red haired girl. After a long and uncomfortable moment, the Magister's eyes slid down her petite form, as if studying her every curve. His eyebrows shot nearly to his silvery hairline as he stared at her ample bosom, but he schooled himself immediately.

"Come now Graybeard!" Brailen said coldly, missing the wizard's expression completely. "Give your roving eye a rest, and let the poor girl retain some modesty!" Elminster snorted crossly and knuckled his mustache.

"How many years has it been since thy apprenticeship Brailen?" His voice was fully the gruff teacher again, bringing a smile to the Archmage's lips.

"Too many, and assuredly not enough Old Mage. Why do you ask?"

"Because dear lass, I wonder how you could mistake this buxom little goddess for a female, when she is in fact a strapping young man!"

The Archmage stared at Elminster as if he had grown a second head, as did Storm and Reg. Each had ample evidence to counter Elminster's claim. The women could testify first hand that the petite warrior was indeed female. They both had tended her wounds, and in the process had discarded what remained of her tattered rags.

"Surely you jest Elminster." Storm began. The rest of her argument died on her lips as the Magister snapped his fingers, causing a small globe of steaming water to gently wash over the girl's chest. Gone was the petite elf maid and in her place lay a well-muscled young human male. Brailen gasped, Storm simply stared, and Reg dropped the girl turned boy altogether. Had Elminster not been there to catch the lad with his spell there would assuredly be many more wounds to tend to than already accounted for.

Brailen and Storm carefully crept closer to the floating figure, either not noticing Elminster's wry grin or conveniently ignoring it altogether. Storm touched the boy's bandaged chest in amazement, feeling the sculpted muscles of a very male figure. The wrappings were taut and she could just see the tops of the strange tattoos that had been present on the young woman. Brailen went a bit further and lifted the heavy blanket that they had wrapped the girl…boy's naked figure in earlier.

"Oh, my!" She gasped and blushed. Storm quickly peeked beneath the blanket as well, swallowing hard as she did so.

"Oh, my indeed!"

"A-Hem!" Elminster cleared his throat gruffly, causing both women to blush a deeper shade of red. "I trust that ye have had an eye full ladies, as such I'll be sending the lad to his rest." With a clap of his hands, the boy disappeared in a flash of light leaving the quartet standing out on the stoop in the fading afternoon.

"Shall we?" Elminster said with a bow and a flourish towards the door. "Supper is almost done, and Valor hates it when guests dine on cold food." The trio nodded dumbly and allowed their host to shepherd them into his home.

Reg swallowed heavily and whispered a prayer to three or four deities, hoping to leave the mage's home unscathed. He added four more to his list just to make certain that he had his bases covered.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Ivy Mansion, Longsaddle**

Four days hadn't seen much change at the Ivy Mansion, regardless of how many strange phenomenon had decided to occur. Explosions still liberally rocked the estate. Men and women continued to curse themselves in new and very creative ways on an hourly basis. And most importantly, new and often unsettling discoveries were made.

If there was any single place in all the Realms more renowned and feared for the chaotic curiosity and unpredictability of its wizardly hosts, Ulin hadn't found it. She'd looked high and low for over two hundred years too.

It was unique. It was quirky. It was home.

She'd lived in Waterdeep, hunted in Icewind Dale, and shopped in Amn. She'd summered in Silverymoon, and wintered in Calimshan. Yet, none of those places held the same charm that her family home held for her.

Sadly, that charm was seriously tarnished today. It wasn't due to the fact that poor cousin Gertrun had blown herself up during the Great Surge the night that Usagi had arrived. Things like that were all too common where the Harpells were concerned. No, the newest resident of the mansion was the source of this bleak pall. Not the rather smelly slime demon that cousin Agribald had gated in this morning. No it was the rather scantily clad self-proclaimed warrior of Love and Justice that drew the cloud of concern over the Harpell Estate.

Ulin had come by three times a day with meals, but Usagi hadn't touched a one. Considering the appetite that the girl had shown at the evening meal on her first day, this had caused quite some concern for Ulin. She had tried coaxing, pleading, and reasoning with the young woman all to no avail. It was as if the hope had rapidly drained out of her.

Such an event seemed quite impossible given Usagi's effervescent attitude, even after her plight had been revealed. She had vowed to weather any storm, climb any mountain, and even do her homework – what ever that meant – to speed up the process of finding a way home. Which made this turn in character all the more concerning. At first it had seemed that the Surge itself was the culprit.

No one had an answer for the magical surge that had happened that fateful night, and so many laid the blame at Usagi's feet. Spells had performed at insane levels, and the effects of those spells were still being felt throughout the mansion. Everyone prattled on about one theory or another. Some openly claimed that the displaced girl was the root of the problem, but Ulin had heard protests from many corners that this could not have been the case. Usagi had been here for hours before the phenomenon had occurred, and no one could bring themselves to fully implicate the poor girl. Especially after seeing her hopelessness face to face.

Still, blaming the melancholy completely on the Surge seemed all too easy. Something else was at work behind the girl's depression – Ulin was certain. The girl had to have talked with talked with someone or rather someone had most likely talked to her.

A number of culprits readily came to mind: Kithia, Oumeg, Jareth, and Lor. Each of the fools had a propensity for pragmatic cruelty that had become legendary amongst the family. Ulin wouldn't be surprised if one or more of the group had revealed the long odds that Usagi was working against here just to laud their superior intellects over the poor castaway. Still, long odds or not, that was no excuse in the Genasi's mind to give up.

Thus, this morning, Ulin (who had never had a strong sense of patience in the first place) decided to confront the problem head on. With extreme care she nursed the young woman's door open and, after but a moment's hesitation, motioned for the floating bucket of frigid water to follow her in. She had made certain to find the one of the largest containers in the mansion, which was saying a lot, all things considered. It wasn't as big as the towering behemoth that Sadrizar had conjured the night of the Surge, that beast was almost as big as the mansion itself! Still, her choice in magically enlarged buckets was a hum dinger! A full-grown Orc could bathe in it comfortably, (an oxymoron to be certain) which made it the perfect size to wash away Usagi's poor spirits.

Gratefully, Ulin's target slept soundly as the sorceress silently closed the door behind her. The girl's eyes were puffy and the dress that she had worn on her first day at the mansion was a wrinkled mess. Her hair was a rat's warren of knots that would have daunted even Doila's mirror! The room stank of sweat and tears, and Ulin noted with some disgust that the chamber pot hadn't been emptied either.

"Ridiculous!" She hissed as she drew near the bed. The girl had every right to mourn, but to allow herself to fall so easily into hopelessness was unforgivable. The flowery reek firmed Ulin's resolve further; one way or another, she was going to pull this girl from her sorrows! Even if she had to drag Usagi kicking and screaming from the Mansion to do it!

With exaggerated care Ulin maneuvered her frigid bucket into the most strategic position she could. She was careful not to place it directly over Usagi's head. There was no sense in drowning the poor girl before Ulin had a chance to give her a piece of her mind. The Genasi paused when the bucket was situated over the bed correctly, and in a sense of fair play Ulin offered Usagi one chance to lift herself from the mire.

"Usagi," She nudged the girl with a brush from a nearby dresser. There was no way that she was going to touch the girl; at least not until she had bathed. "Usagi wake up."

"Go'way." The blonde mess rolled over and presented her back to Ulin. The Genasi smiled impishly and shrugged.

"Hard or easy the result will be the same." Ulin said gravely. "One way or another you are getting out of this bed now."

"I said go away."

Ulin motioned with her left hand and the mammoth bucket upended itself.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIYYYYYYEEEEEEEE!"

Residents outside the mansion, and most inside as well, were rattled by the high-pitched wail that erupted from the guest wing of the mansion. Windows vibrated in their frames, the ground trembled, and flocks of birds took to wing from the hodge-podge roof of the mansion proper.

One resident in particular nearly jumped out of his skin. Poor Hevig Harpell hadn't slept well in the four days since Usagi's arrival. He was haunted by visions of a shapely angel continuously trying to hunt him down and…well…, do something dreadfully painful with that heart shaped mace of hers. There were other dreams as well, many of which the middle aged Harpell refused to remember. The ones that he couldn't forget made him desperately hope that Mistress Usagi wasn't a mind reader.

Hevig mopped the nervous sweat from his brow, and swallowed hard. Perhaps he could visit cousin Gavin in Silverymoon. He would have to find a way around his allergies to the cats, and the frogs, and the ferrets, and of course the horses (mustn't forget the horses) – a small price to pay if it kept his head attached to his shoulders.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR!" A very wet and shivering Usagi demanded from the soaked bed. Frigid water pooled around her body, causing her teeth to chatter uncontrollably as she glared daggers at Ulin.

"To wake you."

"WELL IT DID ITS JOB! THANK YOU VERY MUCH!"

"You're welcome." Ulin sat atop the upended bucket before Usagi's bed with a warm smile firmly in place. "Are you ready to face a new day?"

"Oooooh!" Usagi growled and shook her head, trying to get the excess water out of her ears.

"No?" Ulin's dark eyebrow rose speculatively. With a snap of her fingers a second bucket, a little smaller than the first, appeared above Usagi, sloshing more icy water down the girl's back. Usagi stiffened immediately and began to wave her hands desperately.

"I'mupI'mupI'mup!"

Ulin's smile was about as warm as the water had been.

"Good. You've wallowed in your self-pity long enough."

Usagi growled something under her breath.

"I'm sorry. I didn't catch that." Ulin said sweetly.

"What would you know about how I feel?" Usagi grumbled.

"More than you will ever know." Ulin looked away from Usagi and set about collecting the buckets. "You've twenty minutes to get dressed and be ready to meet the day. I will be waiting for you in the reading room."

"And if I'm not?" Usagi said petulantly. The grin she received from the green skinned woman before her was not a pleasant one.

"A certain Aunt of mine enjoys bathing in a particular mountain lake. I should be able to break a hole in the ice large enough for you in twenty minutes." The look on Ulin's face begged for Usagi to call her bluff. "You've less than nineteen minutes and counting Usagi. I suggest that you make the most of them."

Usagi watched as the Genasi sauntered out of the room, and waited for a full minute before scrambling out of the bed. She thanked her lucky stars that the mirrors were still in the room, and prayed silently that they would help get the stink off as well as dress her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Gainsburrow Abbey, Lantan 

Four days had allowed Keiichi to settle himself somewhat amongst the monks. It was nice to have a strict routine to fall back on in order to take the edge off the strangeness of his situation. He had woken early the second morning to find that he could no longer understand anyone, which caused him to panic a bit. No one really understood how or why he had lost his ability to speak the language, some said that it was a spell running its course and others thought that he might be faking ignorance for some nefarious purpose.

Okay, so that was only Sister Temlaine – but she seemed intimidating enough to be two or three people in her own right. There were other theories to be sure, the mysterious Surge for one – not that Keiichi understood any of them; even after a hasty spell from Evendur had opened his ears and loosed his tongue again. A few hours later, the language barrier returned with a vengeance when the spell had finally run its course.

The monks and nuns had refused to cast the spell on the third day, insisting that he teach them to speak his tongue, while they taught him theirs. It seemed a fair trade – frustrating, but fair. It was a mind-numbing task that took up most of his day, and often became frustrating for both student and teacher. Especially since Sister Maerdith had eagerly volunteered to be both teacher and student to Keiichi. Her enthusiasm was draining.

They would begin at dawn, right after the morning meal, and work straight through to late afternoon. The complexity of the Japanese language was giving her headaches, and it was giving him migraines. Speaking was one thing, but trying to teach someone else all of the grammar rules was terribly exasperating. Thankfully, Evendur would come for him an hour before the evening meal, saving both teacher and student from the inevitable fate of throttling each other.

The second day of their studies, Sister Maerdith brought Keiichi a rather foul smelling potion to drink. Years of living alongside Urd had left him gun shy of such things, which was why Sister Maerdith found herself wrestling the traveler to the floor and pouring the thick, pasty concoction down his throat. She had drained the rest of the evil tasting glop with a tiny shiver, and the lessons began anew.

Keiichi's mind seemed afire as he rapidly digested the rudiments of the Lantanese and Chondathan tongues. By the time that Evendur had arrived he had improved immensely. Sister Maerdith too, picked up more than she had been. As foul as the draught had tasted, it had performed miraculously – something that Urd's potions never did. By the third day, Keiichi was sounding more or less like a four or five year old with his Chondathan. His Lantanese was a little better, but not much.

Day four was shaping up to be a slow build.

"Uh… Sister Maerdith? Why we no use more drink?"

"Simply put Master Keiichi, we can't." Keiichi arched an eyebrow at her defensive tone.

"Why?"

"There are no short cuts to true learning." She said stiffly. Keiichi wasn't sure he had caught all that she had said, but he had gotten the gist of what she meant.

"This take very long time, no?" Sister Maerdith shrugged as she laid out her books.

"That depends entirely on you. If you work hard, you'll have Lantanese mastered in a few months."

"Uhm…what mean to say 'Yeafen'?" Keiichi knew that he had butchered the question, but it was one of the only phrases that he could pronounce correctly.

"Yeafen is…" the nun thumbed through her ledger of notes rapidly. "…tsuki?"

"Oh! Month! I is understanding now!" Keiichi nodded his head vigorously. The rest of the day's lessons were slow, but filled with progress all the same. Evendur arrived later than usual that afternoon with a summons for Keiichi to present himself at Ellosin's personal study before evening prayer.

"Uh…okay."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Rage. Hatred. Fear.

He had felt these things directed his way all too often in his life, and so they came as little surprise. No, what truly surprised him were the other emotions dancing around him.

Pity. Concern. Protectiveness.

Those were emotions only came from a select few.

Give him to me Spellcow! Now, before I tear out your eyes! Ranma could feel his skin prickle at the threat, but he could not find the strength to care. He felt someone pulling on his right arm, followed by a reflex of someone possessively clutching his left arm. Finding the strength to think was hard enough, anything else was next to impossible! He didn't want to open his eyes, hoping that this was all some sort of stupid nightmare – especially considering the all too familiar battle that awaited him.

He counted to ten. And then he counted back to one again. He willed himself to be back in his room at the Tendos. Unfortunately nothing changed. As usual.

He felt unusually weak – worse than the old Perv's little pressure point (the bastard) – and his head felt remotely like a stuffed watermelon. He sighed tiredly as a woman scornfully laughed near by and felt someone clutch him tighter.

Nothing good ever came of that kind of laugh.

Your wits are mired in a midden heap Shar! There is no way in the Nine Hells that I would let you have him! 

Yup. Nothing good. Ranma started to pray to his ancestors, hoping that at least one of them made it to someplace remotely divine. Obviously he had hoped for more than his forebears were willing to offer. Either they weren't listening or no body had made it to the afterlife. Considering his track record and Genma's stellar example, Ranma was certain that his ancestors were laughing at him from the depths of Hell. It was the only thing that could explain his crappy life.

Jerks.

Okay, so maybe the ancestor thing didn't work, but like most of the Japanese, he didn't have his eggs all in one basket. He just needed to send his prayers to someone else. How about Susano? Ranma had always felt drawn to the guy. There was something about being named the "Impetuous Male" that just resonated with Ranma. The oh-so-familiar tug-of-war was really starting to hurt, which added the necessary desperation the young martial artist needed to spice up his prayer.

To his surprise he heard a phone ringing in his head. It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. It rang some more, and he felt like he was going to be ripped in half. Come on! Answer the damn phone already!

It rang twice more and then someone picked up on the other end. Yatta!

"Yo. I ain't here. Thor and Bacchus are pitching a wild one in Ama-no-Uzume's backyard. Free booze and all the buffalo wings that you can eat. Bring'em if ya got'em! And if this is Amaterasu callin' ta nag me again…"

Ranma winced as the sound of an air horn blasted though his head. When the ungodly noise stopped, Ranma thought that he heard a beep through the ringing of his ears. He wasn't entirely sure, since he was too busy cussing a blue streak.

The string of insults and swearing lasted a good ten minutes. He cursed the Heavens and Hell, he cursed his ancestors and his father, he damned the phone company for playing such a wicked joke and promised in very plain language that he was going to shove a phone (preferably a large and cumbersome model) up someone's…well someplace where the sun definitely can't shine. Ranma felt that some of the colorful phrases were rather creative, and wholly fitting considering the circumstances. Something seemed to "click" in his head, strangely reminding him of an answering machine turning off.

Damn.

Wouldn't it just be his luck that Susano really had an answering machine? If he did, Ranma figured that the god would take his call one of two ways: He'd either be extremely offended (Ranma had said some rather nasty things about the "Impetuous Male" after all), or the Storm Lord would laugh himself to death. Ranma darkly hoped that it would be the latter. It was asking a lot, but a man had to hope.

The urgency of the tug-of-war was really starting to increase, and like a pressure cooker, Ranma could feel the stress building. It was only a matter of time before the whole damn pickle blew. He felt someone wrap another arm around him, which was immediately mirrored by the other woman. The very air was charged with their anger.

Now, Ranma considered himself well versed in cursing and insulting. After all, Genma had spent ten years calling the young martial artist every name in the book. Hell, the old fart had even coined a few new phrases to boot! Nothing however, could have prepared Ranma for the blistering foulness of these two women. Even after his little tirade, Ranma knew that there was no way that he could compete.

They were creative in a way that made Ranma want to vomit. A thousand images danced in his mind, each fouler than the last. Some words just weren't supposed to come out of a woman's mouth. Hell! Some imagery was too much to leave a man's mouth! Just hearing the cursing made Ranma feel the need for a bath. It was a humbling, if not terribly disturbing experience.

If it hadn't been for the fact that they were slinging mud while yanking on his arms, he might have actually enjoyed the show. However, women fighting over him was up there with cats. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of getting caught in the middle of yet another ca…ca…catfight.

The pair moved into a rather guttural language that Ranma couldn't understand, and their screeching voices were beginning to really make his head throb. That was it. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Oi! Knock it off!" He wasn't surprised that they didn't hear him. Their frantic tugging increased and Ranma felt like he was being torn in half.

Something snapped in him. Maybe it was the simple fact that he was tired and his head hurt. Perhaps it was the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. Then again, it could have been years of martial instinct finally taking over. Ranma blindly reversed their holds on him, smoothly spun and tucked, and in a very deft movement slammed both women face down on the ground.

All without opening his eyes.

The sense of surprise was tangible.

The young martial artist quickly secured his pin and counted backwards from one hundred before speaking.

"Get this straight." The Soul of Ice was such a wonderful technique. It made his words come out twice as cold as they should have. "I ain't no one's toy. I ain't no one's property. And I sure as Hell ain't goin' anywhere with either o'you. Got it?"

Silence met his ears and a cold prickling danced up and down his arms and spine. He wasn't sure what it meant, but it definitely felt like someone walking over his grave. The women beneath him began to struggle and Ranma sighed. Again.

"I don't know why I'm even trying. It's not like anyone ever listens." He released them and stood up smoothly. It was past time to see what new mess he had gotten himself into. What he saw when his eyes opened would literally haunt his every waking moment for the next few months.

He was familiar with the female body. He had one after all. However, in all of his days he had never seen a "perfect" female body. Now, standing before him, he saw not one, but two. One was dressed in shadows that left nothing to the imagination, while the other wore an equally revealing dress made wholly of glittering stars. Their faces were, for lack of a better word, Divine. Each luscious curve tugged at his eyes, and made his stomach squiggle and worm in a way that not even Shampoo or Ms. Hinako could hope to inspire. He felt the fires of lust for the very first time in his young life, but only until his eyes met theirs.

Windows to eternity. That's what he was saw when he looked into their eyes. There was a depth to their gaze that he had never experienced before, and the need to kneel and worship these women seemed perfectly within reason. They loomed over him. They made him feel so tiny.

He could feel them calling to him, coaxing, tempting, and promising things.

Power. Adventure. Freedom. Love.

They said all the right things and made all the right gestures. Had they continued to focus their attention on him, he would have lost himself to them. However, the shadow woman crossed the path of the other, earning a rather painful kick to the rear from the star woman. And thus spell was broken.

Ranma turned away and started to sneak from the nasty catfight with all the stealth that he could muster. He tried his best to ignore the shouted voices and their subsequent cries of "MINE!"

When he heard the first explosions, stealth was tossed to the wind. It didn't matter how tired he felt, he ran anyway. When the voices of the women started calling after him he doubled his speed.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Storm looked up from her reading beside the boy's bed, and noted that he was thrashing in his sleep. Given the battle they had just survived, she didn't blame him. She calmly set her book aside and started to move to the bed when the youth sat bolt up right with a haunted look in his otherwise vacant eyes.

He was panting as if he had run for miles.

She could tell immediately that he wasn't truly awake. His eyes darted back and forth never really settling on anything. His hands also moved, as if he were using them to blindly find his way through a dark cavern. He was panicked, as though some terrible creature was hunting him. She watched uneasily as the boy scooted across the bed until his back was firmly against the headboard.

Storm had seen enough magic and strangeness in her life to see that the boy might be under a foul spell, and immediately called out to El. A moment later she was grateful she had, for the glow of silver flames spread outward from his body in a bright nimbus and black lightning danced up and down his form.

"Gods above. What have I brought into this home?

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Gainsburrow Abbey, Lantan 

Gainsburrow Abbey was a curious place, not at all like any monastery that Keiichi had ever seen. Not that he'd seen many…well, uh…he'd never actually seen one at all to tell the truth, but this place was about as far from the idea of a monastery that one could get.

There was no chanting, except in the evening…sometimes – and the sense of peace that was supposed to hang around holy places, was conspicuously absent. He supposed that was due to all of the crashes and explosions that rocked the compound during the day. It reminded Keiichi of the Nekomi Tech machine shop back home.

It was humbling in a way, to walk these halls. Even after living in the presence of three (and at times more) goddesses, not to mention a temple of his own, Keiichi had never felt this…awed. No, that wasn't the right word. He had stood side by side with Belldandy, before the Judgment Gate. Poised on the threshold of Eternity and clutching desperately to her hand, he had walked through that terrifying portal, not knowing before hand how the Gods would judge his love for her. He had felt more humbled, more in awe of life and Belldandy's love for him, in that single moment than in any other he had ever experienced.

No. These halls energized him in way that he had never felt before. He hungered to learn. He needed to learn, and share his learning with others. It was a wonderful thing to feel.

Ingenuity, patient exploration, and the exchange of ideas and learning all pointed in one general direction: progress. This was the conceptual foundation of the faith of Ohgma. Something that Keiichi believed in whole-heartedly. Life without progress was empty and dead.

"To be certain."

Had he been speaking out loud? Keiichi pulled up short and shook his head. Seated before him, just outside Ellosine's study sat a handsome man. His clothing was modest, yet elegant at the same time. His dark hair and curiously verdant eyes shone with something…more than human. A large tome, situated in the man's lap, was opened to reveal pages that had long ago turned gold with age. No. They were gold!

"I…I'm sorry to have disturbed your reading." Keiichi scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"No harm done, Master Keiichi." The man closed his book and stood. "Could I trouble you for a walk?"

Keiichi rubbed his cheek and chanced a look at Ellosine's door.

"I'm sorry, but…uh, Ellosine…"

"…Has been detained in other business. He asked that I entertain you for a time Master Keiichi, while he attends to temple affairs. Do you mind?"

"Oh. Of course not." Well, that was sure odd. Not unheard of, but odd. Ellosine was a busy man…er, elf. It wasn't out of the ordinary that he would introduce people to Keiichi either. The man motioned for Keiichi to lead the way and fell in step beside him immediately. They walked for a time through the energetic halls, and yet they saw not another soul.

That was extremely odd.

"Forgive my manners Master Keiichi. My name is Ty Binder."

"Keiichi Morisato. It's a pleasure." The displaced young man bowed slightly, and was surprised to see his gesture returned.

"I must protest. The pleasure and honor are mine." The man's smile was genuine, setting Keiichi's heart at ease. "From what I hear, you've come a visiting from quite a distance."

Keiichi laughed.

"I guess you could say that. Yeah." How does one describe the distance from another reality?

Silence built for a time, each man walking with his own thoughts. Ty's stride was long, and Keiichi had to take two steps for his every one.

"May I ask you a personal question Master Keiichi?" The question came, but it wasn't unexpected. So many people had felt the need to pump him for information over the last few days, why should this experience be any different?

"Sure, go ahead."

"Would you consider yourself a religious man?"

Keiichi had expected any number of questions, ranging from the climate of his home to what is this thing called a microwave? The subject of religion had never really occurred to him. He should have expected this sooner or later though. This was a monastery after all. It was only a matter of time before someone tried recruiting him…or whatever it was called.

"That's a tough question to answer." Bleh! How lame!

Way to dodge a question Morisato! Too bad Ty didn't pick up on it.

"How so?"

"Well, I'm honestly not sure how to answer it." Keiichi hedged.

"It seems a straightforward enough question, don't you think?"

"Look, Mister Binder. Don't get me wrong, I really appreciate the effort, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for in a convert." Way to go! Not too forceful, and a tad diplomatic as well. Hopefully that would nip any more attempts at indoctrinating him.

"Oh? I think you have all the right instincts to worship Ohgma." Keiichi grimaced inside. "However, I am not trying to proselytize you Master Keiichi."

"No?" Well, that was a first.

"No."

"Then why ask?"

"Why continue to dodge the question?"

He had Keiichi there.

"Good point." The young man sighed and rubbed his neck, but after a moment he gathered his courage and pressed forward. Ellosine had said that Honesty was the best policy and so Keiichi went with it.

"Yes and no."

"Yes and no?" Ty laughed. "You're a bit of a fence sitter aren't you?"

Keiichi chuckled. "I suppose I am at that."

"This is puzzling to me, Master Keiichi." Ty rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How can a man, who has truthfully proclaimed to love and be loved by a goddess, not be religious?"

Keiichi rolled his shoulders and hung his head somewhat shamefully.

"I wish that I knew."

"Is that why you were sent away? Because the Powers that Be could not accept a faithless love?" Keiichi's steps faltered, and he scrambled to keep his footing. The young man blinked up at his companion and then immediately looked away. There was only honest curiosity in the other man's face. But the anger that he felt at that question remained.

He loved Belldandy! And he had lots of faith! He went to the temples on holidays. He paid his respects to his ancestors.

"I…I…," What could he say to something like that? He knew what he wanted to say, but Keiichi had been around Urd long enough to know that there was a certain etiquette to be practiced in temples. Cussing a blue streak was not something that one did in holy places. So he took a deep steadying breath and plunged forward.

"I don't really know what it means to be religious. I mean I've lived with three goddesses for close to four years. In that time I've seen all sorts of things: demons, angels, magic, mischief and miracles. But in all of that, I don't see a big over arching, all encompassing Plan."

"You don't?" Ty asked with a knowing grin.

"Not unless it has something to do with terrorizing mortals and making their lives a Hell on Earth."

Ty nodded his head sagely.

"There are some Powers here that believe that way."

"Scary."

"You've no idea." Ty deadpanned. "Truthfully though Master Keiichi, have you never asked yourself that timeless question – 'Why me?'"

Keiichi snorted. "Of course I have. Who hasn't?"

"And?"

"'And' what?"

"Why you?" Keiichi looked at him quizzically. "Why were you chosen to receive a wish, above so many others? How could you, above all other men capture the heart of a goddess?" Ty watched as Keiichi tried to hide his discomfort. After a long time, Keiichi sighed.

"I don't know."

"Does not knowing matter to you?" Ty asked quietly.

"Yeah. I suppose that it does."

"Then why not exercise a little faith." Keiichi looked at the man walking next to him for a moment and then stopped altogether.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Go out on a limb. Take a chance. Gamble." Ty's smile was sly and knowing. "That's what you've always been afraid of isn't it?"

"What?" Keiichi fidgeted, shifting his robes around his shoulders.

"The Answer." The capital "A" was easily noted.

"The answer to what?" Keiichi hedged.

"Don't be dense. The _Answer._ The answer to 'why me?' The answer to 'what's the Big Picture here?'" Ty paused and pinned Keiichi with a very disconcerting look. "You are so afraid of answers Master Keiichi, that you refuse to ask any of the right questions."

"And what would those be?" Keiichi pulled his robe's belt a little tighter in order to control the urge to deck the guy. Who in the heck did he think he was to judge Keiichi like this?

Ty shook his head. "A lot of heart, good amount of brains, but no common sense."

Keiichi ground his teeth.

"Look."

"What?"

"No. Look."

Keiichi moved his head to look up and down the hallway, but saw nothing of any real interest. His eyes settled on first himself and finally Ty, but for the life of him he didn't understand what Ty was getting at.

"I don't get it."

"Step outside of yourself Master Keiichi. Step outside of yourself and look at this situation from every possible angle, even if the possibility is improbable. Only then will you understand why you were sent here."

"What are you talking about?" Ty Binder smiled patiently and shook his head.

"What helped you through those first tumultuous months with Verthandi, Master Keiichi? What helped you endure all of the pain and humiliation that her beloved sisters heaped upon you?" Ty paused. His gentle grin became a full-blown smile. "What guided your steps through the Judgment Gate?"

Keiichi stood slack jawed for a moment as the full realization of what he was talking to hit him. He hadn't expounded on his tribulations with Urd and Skuld, nor had he spoken of the Judgment Gate with anyone except Belldandy. In his experience, only a god could pull stuff from his head like that. Knowing this didn't stop his mouth from asking the inevitable question.

"Who are you? Who are you really?" Keiichi demanded. "How…how do you know all that?"

"I am who I am, Morisato Keiichi. You have the right of it at the very least. I am the Binder of all Knowledge. I am the great Namer." Ty waved his hands this way and that, motioning to encompass all that Keiichi could and could not see. "It was given to me to name every thing – living and dead, concept and fact. Nothing comes to Toril without me first giving it a name and a place in the great scheme of things." He smiled at Keiichi warmly.

"You however, and two others like you, cannot be given names. Not by me at least."

Keiichi couldn't resist. He had to know the answer.

"Why not?"

"It was decreed that you shall find your own names and your own places here in this world, and if you proved worthy of greater gifts…." Ty trailed off with a shrug, and the proceeded to walk again. "One of you is divine by birth. One divine by chance. But one of you can be divine by design."

"By design?" Keiichi asked. The words hadn't really settled, but the seed had been planted.

"It is an old idea, really. Don't let it surprise you."

"How…?"

"That would be telling now wouldn't it?"

"You won't tell me?" Keiichi asked cautiously.

"And ruin the journey? Certainly not!" Ty answered with a grin. Keiichi shook his head. "I will tell you this, Morisato Keiichi, for you already know it in your heart. Love has always guided your steps before, and it will not fail you now."

Keiichi swallowed and watched the handsome man start to pull away from him.

"I've set your steps, but your path is your own to walk." Ty turned and smiled at Keiichi one last time. "I will allow you to pass on a few concepts from your world to mine Master Keiichi. It will make the way easier for you and for those who worship me." He paused at a doorway leading out into a courtyard and smiled back at Keiichi. "I will also leave you with this advice. Find your Faith. Find it before you are found wanting. Fare you well Master Keiichi. We shall not meet again in this life time."

And with that he left, leaving Keiichi alone with his thoughts in an empty corridor.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Ranma ran.

His life depended on it.

It wasn't the exploding terrain, the super-heated air, or even the way that lightning seemed intent on skewering him that tipped him off. It was the way that the shadowy woman was doing her level best to explain how wonderful life was going to be. Eternity as a s…se…love slave was anything but desirable on Ranma's long list of to-do's – regardless of how gorgeous said woman was. The simple fact that she was backing up her offers with…well, exploding earth, super-heated air, and lightning…it says a lot about a person's personality, y'know? The woman scared him more than Kodachi ever had, and that was saying something!

Not that Ranma Saotome was scared of a chick. Not really. Naaaw. He just respected the few things in creation that could really give him a run for his money….

Not that some nut-bar, goth-girl had a chance of beating him. Nope. No way. Ranma was just trying to give'em a break was all. It was a privilege to be beaten by the best, and sure he was irresistible, but a guy had to draw the line somewhere! He had enough women in his life to last ten men. There was no need to add any more to the mix.

Still, the Saotome Final Technique wasn't really getting him anywhere. He'd been running for some time now, and he still hadn't come any closer to figuring a way out of this mess. It was really starting to piss him off. Tack on some really creepy opponents that kept popping out of the wood work every-so-often, and Ranma was really starting to get mad. He had fought some rather weird things in his life, but living shadows were just too much! It brought a whole knew meaning to the phrase "shadow boxing". The starry woman had tossed some sort of ki attack that lit everything up, dissolving the shadows, effectively showing Ranma their weakness.

This of course pissed the shadow woman off enough that she would shift her attention away from Ranma for a time, giving the martial artist time to put some distance between his pursuers and himself. It never lasted long though. Regardless of where he went or hid.

Crazy chicks.

That became another sticky point for Ranma. He had no idea where he was, but it sure felt familiar. He was certain that he had passed through his mother's house at one point, and the rocky area that he had run through not too long ago looked an awful lot like the one where his father trained him with the Habu pit vipers. And he couldn't be sure, but the small lake that he had just swam across looked an awful lot like the Tendo's koi pond…. This whole experience was like some bad dream. No make that nightmare. He could usually wake himself from his dreams.

Everything was little more than a blur as the terrain around him shifted constantly, hindering his esc…er, progress as much as helping with it. More shadows appeared and just as soon disappeared as Ranma brightly flared his ki. He ran farther, noting the bleakness of the sky and darkness of the black sands that he was passing over. A dark, boiling storm hung on the horizon, like oil on water. The sight would have filled anyone with trepidation, but not everyone could be privileged enough to be Ranma Saotome. They would have run in fear, whereas he ran forward…completely unaware of his surroundings.

It didn't take him long to overtake the storm, driven as he was to find a good hid…er…aw ta Hell with it! He could admit it to himself! He was scared! Those two women scared the Hell outta him and he wanted ta hide like there was no tomorrow! And from the way that those two kept tossing ki, there might not be a tomorrow!

Sickly green lightning danced soundlessly in the blood red clouds above, barely illuminating the black sands beneath his feet. In the distance loomed a massive obsidian cube. It dominated the horizon, blotting out the sky the closer that Ranma came to it. He wasn't sure what it was, but it looked like it might be a place to find some shelter from the angry screaming and explosions that were rapidly drawing near to him. That was enough of a reason for Ranma to pour on the speed.

The ground rumbled rhythmically beneath his feet the closer that he drew to the black cube. It was a frighteningly familiar sensation that he couldn't quite place – something that instilled a great deal of terror in his heart. But next to the imminent danger at hand, Ranma felt that he would brave some familiar ghost rather than face what was behind him.

"I will not let you have him!"

Oh, Hell! It was the only thought that Ranma could coherently come up with as he searched the base of the gargantuan cube for a door, or a window, or a freakin' mouse hole for pity's sake!

The starry woman called down a massive bolt of green lightning to strike her opponent. The shadowy woman screamed in agony and immediately retaliated by sending a wave of sandy earth crashing down on her opponent.

It was a day of surprises for Ranma. The impossible was common fare for him, but the way that these two were fighting was just downright cool! Scary as all get out, but cool! Their techniques held sooo much power! Not to mention the fact that they were flying just like Herb could.

Damn! He still hadn't figured that one out yet either!

Ranma made a mental note to start working on that technique as soon as the current crisis was out of the way. For the moment, he satisfied himself with feeling around for a hidden door on the huge metallic cube. There had to be a way in! There just had to be!

Ranma's fingers flew across the obsidian surface of the edifice; deftly probing until at last he felt something "click." A large pair of doors began to silently slide open, revealing nothing but more darkness within the depths of the mammoth cube.

"HA!"

His celebrations were short lived as a starry body slammed into him from behind, bowling him into the waiting darkness. The shadow woman followed closely on their heels. The moment that she passed the threshold of the portal, the doors slammed shut with a great, echoing "BOOM!"

The world grew silent. Lightning no longer fell from the skies, and the earth no longer trembled – it was as if the whole of creation held its breath.

"…meow…"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

End Chapter Three 


	4. Chapter 4

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer: **

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Note:**

I can honestly say that I've done more research for this story than all my stories combined! There is so much source material for the Forgotten Realms! Ugh, I think my eyes are bleeding. Special thanks go out to Hitoshi Doi (http/anime.jyu.fi/doi/smoon/) and Ken Arromde (http/ for their Sailor Moon FAQs. The work that they put into their sites is nothing short of staggering!

For those that missed earlier references, here are some definitions about races:

**Genasi** – Half-breed with one parent being humanoid (Elf, Human, Dwarf, Gnome, Halfling), and the other being an elemental creature (Djinn, Marid, Dao, Efreet, etc.).

**Aasimar** – Half-breed with one parent being humanoid and one parent being a celestial creature (i.e. angel, demi-god, god, etc.).

Next chapter I'll give everyone a short list of the other source material that I'm drawing from. Peace!

C&C appreciated.

Enjoy!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Realms**

**Chapter Four**

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The Ivy Mansion, Longsaddle 

Usagi was dressed and waiting in the reading room with two minutes to spare. It was a record she supposed. She had never been more than thirty-five seconds early to anything, outside of a date or a shopping spree, in her life. The small victory, if that was what it could be called, did little to brighten her mood though.

She had every right to stay in her room if she wanted. Ulin had no right to barge in and ruin her morning even more. Hadn't she been through enough already? Far from home, with no Mamo-chan, no Rei, or Ami, or Makoto, or Minako. No Luna, or Shinji, or Mom and Dad…and no way to get back to them. She had heard the odds stacked against her. She might be naive, but she wasn't stupid. It would have been easier for her to bring the earth to her!

She didn't want to cry again. It didn't solve anything. She could hear Rei now, calling her a crybaby. Why did this have to happen? What would everyone be thinking? Would they think that she had run out on them? Would they think she was dead? Would Mamo-chan find someone new? Regardless of how hard she fought them, the tears came anyway. She started to move to a large chair near the fireplace, intent on collapsing.

"Good. You made it."

Usagi's head shot up and pinned Ulin with a cold glare through her tears. The jade skinned woman made no notice of the look, or the cold anger that backed it. Instead she busied herself with setting down two very large leather bags and a rather large backpack.

"I'm not talking to you." Usagi said petulantly.

"That is perfectly fine. It will give you more energy to focus on the tasks at hand." Ulin said with a small grin. She grabbed Usagi's arm, causing the other girl to yelp in distress. The Genasi did not slow to allow her charge time to catch up, she instead half dragged, half carried Usagi back into her room.

"Hey! Let go!" Usagi whined. "That hurts!"

"You're not talking to me, remember?" Ulin pulled up short in front of Doila's mirrors, and positioned Usagi with great care between the two. Usagi shrugged out of Ulin's grasp and stuck her tongue out at the woman. When she noted where she was, the blonde haired girl looked over her shoulder disgustedly at the Genasi.

"I'm already dressed." Usagi motioned to her slim, yet comfortable, yellow silk dress for emphasis.

"A nice choice too," Ulin said with a grin. "…were we staying in the Ivy Mansion." Usagi blinked and then opened her mouth to question the other woman, but Ulin overrode her. "Riding boots. Black, thigh high, low heeled. Held not worn." The reflection complied. "Very good."

"What are you talking about? Where are we going?"

Ulin ignored the question, in favor of lifting Usagi's arms in time to receive the proffered footwear – and just as quickly she took them from the girl. The displaced Moon Princess could do little more than blink as Ulin repositioned her before the mirror and began barking out more commands to the mirrors. At each order the mirror began dressing Usagi's reflection.

"Single braid, centered down the back. Black, leather riding dress – tooled with roses along the hem. We will also need a pair of thick stockings for the boots please." Usagi nodded at that and smiled. "White cotton blouse, embroidered with…" Ulin paused for a moment as if thinking.

"More roses!" Usagi crowed.

Ulin smiled as Usagi's anger was momentarily forgotten, and quickly finished her business with the mirrors. "That will do for this outfit thank you."

Usagi squawked as her dress disappeared and was replaced by the sturdier traveling clothes.

"What's going on?" Ulin ignored her and lifted the girl's arms again to receive the next batch of clothing.

"Riding clothes to match. Six changes please, two of which must be lined for winter travel, plus the equivalent small clothes, shifts, socks and stockings. Held not worn if you please." Again the reflection complied. "Very good, thank you."

Usagi staggered under the carefully folded burden.

"Uliiiin!" Usagi whined. "What is going on?" The jade skinned woman turned and smiled at the laundry-laden girl.

"Where do you escape the humdrum doldrums?" Ulin winked at Usagi and stabbed a finger skyward. "On a trip of course!"

As if to emphasize the woman's point, Usagi took a shaky, blind step forward and stumbled over her new boots. The tower of clothes went flying and both women tumbled to the floor. Usagi lifted a long gray sock from her face and narrowed her eyes dangerously.

"Trust me. Ulin grinned impishly. "You'll love it!"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

"Nine companies!"

Zuieez V'heron settled his equipment one more time at his waist, trying to ignore the ranting of his superior. Sardizzt Ord'Hul was something of a miracle of chance for drow society. He was, for lack of a better term, an idiot. He was a dangerous idiot to be certain, but having served under his incompetence for two long years Zuieez learned early on the secret of his success – his field commanders.

Sardizzt had a way with the nobility and merchants' guilds of Ched Nasad, Menzoberranzan, Baereghel, and the newly founded Debarn Rez. This reason, and this reason alone kept him alive and at the head of this campaigning venture. The true leadership of the Rathal lay amongst the four field commanders, and they didn't like failure any more than Sardizzt.

"Nine companies, lost!" Sardizzt growled and drove a dagger through the eye of a goblin porter passing him. The small beast squealed and toppled to the ground clutching his ruined eye long enough to realize that he was dead. The fine, crystal goblets that he had been carrying shattered on the hard stone floor of the war room.

"Yes Fool! Nine!" Juil Gonmpf growled. It was bad enough that they had lost so many of their warriors to this endeavor, but to lose two of the field commanders was crippling. The whole situation stank to the Nine Hells! "Nine companies and one porter!" The field commander of the third column threw his goblet at Sardizzt, pegging him neatly on the back of the head. Sardizzt crumpled into a neat pile at Zuieez' feet. The drow smiled and ran his hand through his white hair before turning to face Zuieez.

"Are you ready?" His voice was overly calm, making Zuieez wonder about his sanity.

"Yes." Juil nodded and swept up his dented goblet.

"Good. We will withdraw for a time." Zuieez nodded watched his commander refill the damaged cup from a pilfered elven carafe that Juil had acquired amongst the spoils of Myth Drannor. "While we are rebuilding our forces, you will be the hand of our vengeance. Do not fail us!"

Zuieez smiled eagerly. Both drow knew that once word spread of their company's weakness, their rivals would fall upon them in droves. The outcome of even one such confrontation was intimately understood, but left unspoken.

"Return with the witch's head, Field Captain V'Heron, or do not return at all." Juil smiled coldly. "Success will be met with reward, failure will have your entrails strung before the gates of Debarn Rez! Am I clear?"

Zuieez nodded and turned away. Three steps took him out of the small chamber, and into a tunnel that lead out the heart of the company's hold. In no time at all Zuieez was out of the hold and deep in the former glory of Myth Drannor. When he was certain that he was out of earshot of the perimeter guards he began to laugh.

Loud. Long. And free, free at last!

Free to seek out his red haired goddess!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Lantan**

"Faith is no illusion!"

"Then what do you call blindly bowing and scraping to some piece of lifeless rock?"

The young gnomish noble's face was smug, as if he had already won the battle of wills. Sister Maerdith on the other hand had a look that reminded Keiichi of Skuld when faced with a challenge from Urd. She wasn't going to back down, even if it killed her.

Keiichi tried to find a place to hide.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed for Sister Maerdith…not really. He actually admired the fact that she could stand up to such criticism so boldly. This whole confrontation made him uncomfortable though. It was too close to the conversation Keiichi had had with Ty Binder. He couldn't follow everything that they were saying, but what he could understand was fuel for his own questions.

"I do not bow and scrape to unconscious stone, Lord Ferin." Sister Maerdith protested coolly. "I worship a higher power through my belief."

The young Lord Ferin grinned smugly and raised his eyebrow at her. He made no point to hide his disbelief, nor the impressive attempt to look down his nose at Sister Maerdith and Keiichi. There was a good amount of chuckling coming from Ferin's groupies as well. The group itself looked tough, in spite of only coming up to his chest and there was little doubt that if it came down to a fight, Keiichi was going to be pulped. The situation was terribly uncomfortable and potentially volatile. One of Ferin's men kept fingering his dagger in a way that screamed DANGER to Keiichi.

They had come looking for a scrap, and from the way that Sister Maerdith was gripping her basket, Keiichi was certain that she was more than willing to give them one. He had to find a way to diffuse the situation without Sister Maerdith losing face. After a second of hunting his eyes fell on something remarkably familiar. Ferin was about to make another snide remark, when Keiichi placed himself directly in front of the pompous man and pointed into a shop.

"Sister Maerdith! What this is?" He knew that he had bungled the grammar horridly just from the way that Maerdith ground her teeth. It was worth it though, for every eye in the group turned and looked. Outside a smithy, a brawny little man with a bushy mustache was dragging…something…out of the wide doorway of the forge, into the corral. It was large, almost as tall as Keiichi and had three wheels – one large and two small. The larger was positioned in the fore, and the smaller ones were joined to a large frame by a support bar that ran between them. The most appealing thing that Keiichi could see, was a rather bulky, smelly, not to mention noisy engine mounted in the center of the frame.

Gears began tumbling in his head as he grabbed Sister Maerdith's hand and drug her away from Ferin and his flunkies. She protested loudly and was banging Keiichi on the back of his head with a small book emblazoned with the symbol of Ohgma on the cover. Keiichi neither heard nor felt her objections. He didn't hear Ferin's laughter either. Not many could with the groaning and sputtering of the engine coming from the blacksmith's shop.

A small crowd was already beginning to assemble in front of the paddock, making it difficult for Keiichi to make his way to the front of the throng. He almost lost Sister Maerdith twice along the way, but eventually both made it to the fence rail in time to see another small man, dressed in polished brown leather step from the shop. He wore a ridiculous leather hat with an enormous pair of goggles strapped to his head. The cap could not contain the springy red curls of the man's hair, nor could the goggles distract one's gaze from settling on the bright red beard and curled mustache that framed the man's face. A long white linen scarf was wrapped around his neck, making the man look almost like an aviator from the twenties.

Keiichi grinned back at Sister Maerdith who, in the interest of knowledge, had whipped out a notebook and began sketching. He could barely contain his excitement.

"LADies and GENtlemen!" The man waved his arms wide and motioned for the crowd to be silent. Keiichi was surprised to note that most complied readily. However, Ferin's voice rose when everyone else fell silent.

"Third times the charm, eh, Bertrold?" There was raucous laughter from the crowd as the red headed little man scowled at Ferin. It was obvious to Keiichi that this was a common occurrence between Bertrold and Ferin.

"Duncan Steelwater of Gond, has once again surpassed my expectations with this new and wondrous creation!" It was hard to hear him above the chug and whistle of the tricycle's engine. Someone behind Keiichi yelled something unintelligible that was equally lost to Bertrold.

"Look upon this tri-wheeled marvel and know that soon we will all travel the length and breadth of this fair isle in half the time it would take by horse!" Someone openly laughed and boo'ed the little man, but he paid them no heed. This too was obviously very familiar to the man.

"It is my intention to show you the way of the future!" The small man pointed skyward just in time to have the engine backfire on him, leaving his face black with soot. The entire crowd roared their laughter, drowning out the noise of the engine. Keiichi's heart went out to the man. It made him wonder if Gottlieb Daimler had ever faced such dissention and public criticism when testing his "boneshakers."

Ignoring the jibes of the crowd and the pestering of the other bearded man, Bertrold hoisted himself up onto the seat of the madly vibrating tricycle and tossed his white scarf over his shoulder. Keiichi could immediately tell that the engine was improperly balanced and knew the inevitable outcome. He made no move to stop the intrepid little man though. If anyone knew the value of first hand experience, it was Keiichi.

Bertrold pulled a small brass horn from a satchel attached to the handlebars of the bike and puffed up his cheeks. He blew it loudly and the crowd shifted nervously, like a school of frightened fish. Duncan opened a valve on the engine and the engine expelled an immense amount of odd smelling, yellow steam. The little man fumbled to put the horn back into the leather bag and ended up dropping it completely as the tricycle began pulling out of the paddock bumpily.

From what he could see, Keiichi noted that the dirt throughout the corral had been firmly packed in order to allow for a smoother ride. Sadly, Bertrold had little (if any) control over the direction his vehicle was taking. The mob, realizing this fact inherently chose to act on this knowledge and escape the inevitable carnage that was about to unfold. Some walked, others jogged, and the vastly more intelligent of the lot…ran.

Keiichi and Sister Maerdith simply stood their ground and watched in deep fascination as the tricycle lumbered their way. Maerdith was scribbling furiously in her notebook, while Keiichi was analyzing the way the engine danced in it housing. Already he could see three issues that needed to be corrected…no make that four. He was working through the fifth when it became readily apparent that the contraption had no brakes. Keiichi yelled and yanked on Sister Maerdith, abruptly pulling off balance and out of danger.

Physics being what it was, neither the bike nor Sister Maerdith could stop their motion. The one continued its merry way down the bumpy cobblestone road amidst the curses and outcries from poor Bertrold. The other squawked and fell bodily atop Keiichi, upending her inkpot over the poor young man's head.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Duncan Steelwater, priest of Gond the Wondermaker, sighed and started towards the barn. Like every other attempt that they made, he had made certain to hitch up Oolah and Mel before even opening the workshop's doors. His ever-present frown deepened for a moment before turning up in a small smile. At least the damned thing hadn't exploded this time.

He had all but had the team and wagon free from the barn when a great explosion was heard just outside of town. His small smile returned to a frown at the sight of the yellow mushroom cloud to the east.

"Damn fool gnome. Can drive worth beans." He growled as he passed the two humans. He idly noted that the woman was laid out in the man's lap scribbling in a book, every once in a while dipping her quill in his inky black hair or scraping what she needed from the small black rivers on his face. The man in question was a slip of a thing, almost as short as Duncan, but the bright grin on his face was big. Almost as big as the sun.

"You need help?" Duncan arched an eyebrow at the halting lilt to the young man's words, but found himself nodding as he climbed onto the wagon. The last time he had to retrieve the Bertrold Machine, that blasted gnome had just stood around whining and moaning about money. At least this way, he'd have someone else to lift and push – not that the young man looked all that strong. Something was better than nothing though.

The young man was quick to shuffle the still scribbling woman up onto buckbench and scramble into the bed of the wagon. Then they were off to collect the Mighty Bertrold Machine, amidst the jeers and laughter of the crowd.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The darkness was complete. Even for Shar, there was blindness in this dark abyss; and for the first time in eons, the Lady of Loss knew terror. She had felt fear during the Time of Troubles – any simpleton would have in the face of losing all that she had loss, knowing that any of her many enemies could easily fall upon her and assume her power and station. But this…this was different. This was an unnamed horror deliciously lingering in the shadows, waiting to strike. She knew the tactic well enough to know that the three of them were being stalked at this very moment.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

This was where the demons lived.

He could feel them lingering just out of his reach. Their pitiful, starved souls skirted the edge of his awareness, waiting to strike. The smell of fish sausage was heavy in the air, making him want to gag. He had been to this place a number of times, but never consciously…never awake.

He trembled as something brushed against his leg.

They would come soon. They would wait until they were certain that he was panicked enough. It was his greatest moment of weakness, and he always fell prey to it – no matter how hard he tried to over come it. His heart pounded in his chest and his breathing quickened. Any moment now…any moment and they would descend on him.

Damnit! He wasn't going to fall to them this time! He wasn't six years old anymore! He had skills now! He would fight back! He wasn't going to succumb to them!

He wasn't!

He wasn….

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Mystra felt his welling terror and knew her own fear as well. Trapped as they were, where they were, she had no idea how this encounter would play itself out. There were so many variables, each worse than the last. The goddess of magic had seen so many memories as she had chased Ranma across the landscape of his mind. She had seen the high points and the low. She had seen his intimate desires and knew of his most painful regrets. The more that she saw, the harder it was getting to release her hold on him. Or was it the other way around? Mystra doubted that the boy even knew what was happening. The goddess of Magic simply hoped that she survived this incredibly odd conflict intact. Given the pattern of Ranma's life, one thing was perfectly clear – no matter how this ended, there was little doubt that it would end in the most chaotic way possible.

The boy was still indirectly drawing on the Weave, filtering it through his spirit in a minute trickle. So long as it was contained to such a small amount, the Lady of Mysteries doubted that there would be any problems. But after seeing the majority of Ranma's life played out before her, she knew that trouble followed the boy like a dog in heat. She needed to resolve this issue as quickly as possible, before something cataclysmic happened to the Weave.

Mystra could feel her Chosen nearby, but had no way to contact them should things go awry. Toss Shar into the mix and you had a real kettle of fish to fry.

And now, here she was facing Ranma's greatest fears.

"Ao's blood," She whispered to the darkness. "…Let me make it through this intact." Mystra couldn't remember the last time that she, as the goddess of magic, had offered a prayer. It was a bad sign.

The darkness seemed to close in, pressing down on her with a definite weight. She could feel the horror beginning to build around her and knew that it wouldn't be long before Ranma's fears attacked. To her surprise a small, bedraggled cat meandered out of the blackness to stand before her. Another soon joined it, followed by another and another. Hundreds of thousands of the little creatures soon surrounded Mystra. She looked down at her body and saw the links of sausages and noted the stink of fish oil coating her small body. She heard someone whimper, never realizing that it had been her voice crying out.

The first kitten looked up into Mystra's eyes with remorse, tempered by an insane amount of hunger. Had she known better, the cat might have been apologizing for what ever it intended to do.

"…meow…"

The Goddess of Magic screamed as the horde of cats fell upon her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Elminster's home 

Shadowdale

"Gods above. What have I brought into this home?"

Storm knew Spellfire when she saw it. She was intimately aware of the rare and special gift that Mystra graced her favored with. The black lightning though…that was something new. She stared hard at the boy and was taken aback by the look of extreme terror that settled over his face.

As if in concert with his horror, the opposing energies began to coalesce around his hands – the Spellfire in his left and the black lightning in his right. The young warrior roared in denial, a sound that seemed to shake the foundations of the world, spun away presenting his back to her. He threw his hands protectively over his head, warding off some phantom blow that caused him to wince visibly. To her astonishment, Storm watched invisible claws tear lacerations in his skin and clothes. She immediately cast a spell that would reveal these unseen assailants but to her astonishment the room remained empty save for her and the boy. The brutal sight held her spellbound for an unknown amount of time. The poor boy ducked and winced, never finding release from his tormentors.

And all the while, the eldritch energies continued to build.

The Bard of Shadowdale watched transfixed as the magics mixed and an awesome power flared – then the world was suddenly awash in a field of gray and silence. The world was drained of color and sound. Light and darkness seemed to…trade places. Had it not been for Elminster's timely arrival, and his even more timely castings, Storm would have joined the rest of the north wing of Elminster's humble home.

Storm blinked, trying desperately to free her vision of the spots. She immediately looked to a very haggard Elminster. His skin was ashen and a large amount of his wonderfully white beard was singed and smoking. He looked completely drained, as if he hadn't slept in days. And for the very first time in her memory, saw true fear etched on the man's face. She followed his gaze back to the boy. There was little that she could say to describe the image of destruction before her.

Everything from about three feet out and in a roughly crescent shape had simply ceased to exist. The north wall and the rest of the east wing, the stables, an incredible swath of Storm's favorite hill, and a good portion of Old Skull itself was…just gone. And it continued on for as far as the eye could see. Had Storm been standing directly in the boy's line of fire…if he hadn't turned away, there was little doubt that she would have survived. Even with El's mightiest magics in play.

Storm had faced death on a thousand battlefields and not faltered once. But in light of what she had just witnessed, she fainted dead away. And justly so.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Elminster heard as much as felt the scream. Tied as he was to magic, he doubted that anyone with a talent for the Art hadn't felt that in some way or another. Being at ground zero had given him quite the headache and had all but drained him of his magic. He just wished that he could join Storm in her slumber, but someone had to deal with the fallout.

El quickly glanced around the room and his eyes immediately settled on a rather…unsettling sight. The boy was crouched on all fours and staring at the Archmage in very much the same way that Mr. Whiskers, Valor's cat, would have. Sprawled in a tangle of limbs before the boy were two very beautiful and very naked women – one of whom, Elminster knew intimately.

The wizard blinked in silent astonishment at the pair and then turned his attention back to the boy. Every move reminded El of a cat – from the way the boy sat, to the way that he was cleaning his face with his "paws". It was probably the most unnerving sight that he had ever seen in his long life. And that was saying something.

Unsure of what to do, the Archmage simply sat and watched the figure before him nuzzle the two women in turn. The boy sneezed once and licked his hand to clean his face. El watched with a deep sense of fear and fascination as the boy started purring while keeping an eye on everything in the room. El knew enough about animal behavior not to make any sudden moves, especially when the boy "stretched" his back.

There was no open sign of incantation or visible construct, but Elminster still watched with open amazement as the boy proceeded to "sharpen" his claws on the wood of the floor. Four deep gouges from each hand made parallel lines where the boy had drug his hands across the floorboards. Seemingly satisfied, the boy turned to Elminster and "meowed" languidly.

The master mage blinked and then blinked again; shrugging he "meowed" back. The boy

glanced at all three of the women in the room before launching himself out of the whole that he had made. One mighty leap took him across the wheat field. The second took him to what was left of Old Skull. The third pushed him beyond Elminster's field of vision, out into the wide world beyond. The old wizard snorted and knuckled his mustaches while looking down at the women before him.

"'Sorry about this' indeed!" With a snap of his fingers he produced three blankets and a small glass of something that smelled suspiciously of paint thinner. He downed the contents of the small glass in one shivering gulp, before leaving the room to get Brailen and Valor. He could carry Mystra from the room, but there was no way he was going to touch the other woman. If she was who she thought she was…well, Elminster had enough problems in his life without adding her into the mix.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The Ivy Mansion, Longsaddle 

"I hate it."

"We haven't even left yet." Ulin groused.

"I still hate it."

Usagi stood outside the main gate and watched yet another bird slam into the invisible shield. Under differing circumstances she might have felt some sympathy for the poor creature. Sadly, she was grumpy. She was depressed. And even though she had some really cool new clothes to wear (she felt she was dressing up for a cosplay event), she was ready to chew nails. The hard kind…that you build stuff with.

The horse that Ulin had made her carry from the stables had been really cute. It was a pretty brown and white gelding (whatever that was) that had been the size of Luna…up until it passed through the main gate. Then it had gotten big.

Very big.

Very big and scary.

Did she mention that it was big? It also liked her hair. A lot. Probably reminded it of hay or something.

"Did you hear me?"

"No." Ulin's smile was pleasant, but oily. "Please tell me one more time." Usagi noted a hint of grinding teeth. That brought a smile to her lips. Maybe she could make Ulin miserable enough to change her mind.

"I really hate this."

"Do you plan on complaining the whole trip?" Ulin cinched the strap on one of the saddlebags rather aggressively.

"Depends. How long of a trip are we talking here?"

"…." Ulin paused and took a deep breath. She motioned smoothly with her right hand and there was a flare of orange light, accompanied by a large bang. The horses tossed their heads nervously, and it was all Usagi could do to keep hold of her reins. Ulin grinned nastily.

"As long as it takes." She would have added more had a sudden terror not suddenly gripped her heart. It was a sense of incredible fear that caused her to glance wearily into the shadows of the trees around her. A thousand glowing eyes seemed to be watching her. She looked over at Usagi and noted how pale the young woman was. "Please tell me that you feel that."

Usagi didn't trust herself to speak, so she just nodded her head. Ulin swallowed heavily and glanced back up to the mansion proper. From the sudden screaming and evident signs of evacuation, someone had just pulled off something rather large.

"We should get moving."

"Isn't that, like, supposed to be a premonition or something?" Usagi countered hastily. She hated the fact that her voice sounded like Mickey Mouse.

"Don't believe in them." Ulin put her booted foot in the stirrup and hoisted herself into the saddle. "Too much guess work involved. Besides, I get premonitions mixed up with cramps."

"Oh." Usagi nodded again – not understanding a word of what her self-styled, big sister-wannabe had said. Under the jade-skinned woman's watchful eye, Usagi clamored up into her saddle and grimaced in discomfort. It was quite obvious that she had never ridden a horse in her life – something that she felt Ulin was secretly taking great joy in.

"But don't you think we should stay and help out?"

"The Harpell's are big boys and girls Usagi."

The woman had the audacity to grin at Usagi as she kicked her horse's flanks. The blonde haired girl just knew that there was a double meaning there! The beast fairly jumped into a gallop and kicked up a cloud of dust. Usagi blinked and then grinned smugly. Well! If Ulin thought that she could boss Usagi around, then she had another thing coming! Let her take her little road trip, because Usagi had decided to remain right here at the estate! She wasn't a kid anymore and she was sure as heck not going to let anyone boss her around like one! The blonde haired girl chuckled as she tried to dismount the horse, only to find that her bottom was stuck to the saddle!

What the heck was going on here? Why couldn't she get off? A sharp, shrill whistle caused her horse to wicker.

"Whoa there, Mister Horse." She gingerly patted the animal's neck in what she hoped was a soothing manner. She desperately wished that Ami or Minako were here to soothe her. A second whistle rolled through the air causing Mister Horse to paw at the ground in a very disconcerting fashion. "Don't you be getting any ideas Mister Horse. We're going to stay right here. I'm going back to my room and you can go back to that really nice stable with all your friends."

A third whistle cut the air like a knife, causing Mister Horse to imitate his cousin. One moment Usagi and her mount were at a stand still, and the next they were traveling at a speed that nearly threw her. Had it not been for that rather handy enchantment on the saddle, Usagi was certain that she would have seriously injured herself. Usagi bowed low against the horse's neck and clung to it as if her life depended on it. She hoped that this trip would end quickly, before she broke her neck.

In no time at all she felt her mount slow to a light trot. Usagi could hear Ulin's laughter growing nearer with every step. When she was finally eye to eye with the Genasi, Usagi literally growled at her companion.

"I hate you." She seethed. This seemed to add fuel to the fire, for Ulin's laughter grew louder still.

"You think you hate me now…?" She grinned irreverently. "Wait until we stop for the night!"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Throughout the world magic once again danced…oddly. Spells failed where they should have remained firm, miscast spells suddenly became something incredibly different than intended, and more than one spellcaster with a cat familiar screamed and ran in terror of the little demons. The poor cats, uncertain of their master's and mistress' actions did the only thing that they could – they chased after the gibbering fools to ensure that nothing untoward would happen.

For those that still remembered the Arrival and the Time of Troubles, all of these signs and portents sent a shiver of fear coursing down their spines. When the sun set, and night still refused to fall, there was no doubt that something terrible had happened.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

It took Keiichi and Duncan quite sometime to maneuver the twisted and burnt remains of the Bertrold Machine into the wagon, but not half as long as it had taken Duncan by himself. Bertrold had griped and complained about the whole incident, vowing for the third time in so many minutes that he would never again drive the infernal contraption. No one seemed to notice his tirade or his whining for that matter. Each was too busy with his or her duties to pay the red bearded gnome's complaints.

Bertrold, for his part, continued to sit and bemoan his broken state well after Sister Maerdith had healed his broken leg. He refused to aid the priestess of Ohgma in collecting the salvage of what was left of the engine, which made the trip take twice as long as it should have. Duncan was grateful though. Had it just been him, he was certain that Bertrold would have been laid out and taking a "nap" long since courtesy of his fist – patron or not. Once the Machine's frame was carefully secured, both he and the young man began to comb what was left of the hillside for scrap alongside of Sister Maerdith.

There was no small talk, just quiet focused work – something that Duncan appreciated. If he had to endure more than Bertrold for the duration of the four hours it had taken to collect the scrap…well, somebody would have been taking a nap. As it was, the dwarf finally rapped his fist on the back of Bertrold's head just to quiet the gnome's ceaseless chatter. Soon after that the young man and the Ohgmite bundled the poor rich fool into the front of the wagon.

And then they left.

Sister Maerdith sat up front with Duncan and Bertrold, while the young man contented himself to sit near the engine. Duncan would look back every so often to see the boy's brow furrowed in thought. He never touched anything, save the side of the wagon to steady himself when they hit a particularly deep rut in the road. By the time they had returned to the shop, the sun was already kissing the horizon. The light hadn't seemed to diminish any, but there was so much to be done that none of the group took note of the odd occurrence.

It took them some time to unload the wagon and put everything away, but by the time they were finished the smell of fresh bread and spiced potatoes had already drifted into the shop and night had fallen completely. The young man hadn't paused in his work, nor had he complained in the least. His face was covered in soot streaks and grime, but there was a genuine smile hidden beneath the dirt and ash. It made Duncan feel at ease with the lad.

Sister Maerdith had already been sent into the house to help Samril with supper, so it was only a matter of gathering the lad and washing up. Duncan motioned to the young man to follow him out back to the horse trough.

"Wash up good, lad. Sam hates dirty fingernails." The boy nodded and stripped to the waist - all too eager to get the grime off of his skin. Duncan followed and the two shared a bar of soap at the trough. Another stretch of comfortable silence fell over the pair as the washed away the day's toils. When they had just about finished Duncan turned to see Samril, bringing towels out to them. The lovely young dwarf paused long enough before her husband to kiss his cheek in welcome before making her way back to the house.

"Yer a good lad." He said at last, causing the boy to pull his head out the towel. "You work hard and don't complain. A bit scrawny, but you got a strong heart." The lad seemed uncertain of what to say, so he just nodded his head in gratitude. Duncan put out his thick-fingered hand.

"Duncan Steelwater." The dwarf didn't crack a grin, but the warmth of his welcome was felt as the young man accepted his hand in friendship.

"Morisato Keiichi."

"Well, young Master Keiichi, dinner's getting cold." Duncan clapped the boy on the small of his bare back causing him to groan a bit and smile before they both entered the house.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The smells of warm bread, spiced potatoes, and baked chicken assaulted Keiichi's nose immediately. He bent to remove his boots, but stopped when he saw Duncan enter the home with his still on. It felt odd not to remove his shoes, but he followed the dwarf's lead.

Duncan, after presenting himself to his wife for inspection, settled himself in a stout well-built chair. Keiichi came forward and as was his custom, bowed deeply at the waist to the dwarven woman.

"Thank you for me dancing to house." He said solemnly. Sister Maerdith buried her face in her hands, muttering something about doubling his lessons. Bertrold, who was sitting across from Maerdith snorted and bit his bottom lip trying to hide his laughter. Keiichi knew that he had flubbed again, but plowed forward through his embarrassment.

"My name is Morisato Keiichi." He was rather pleased how clear that phrase had come out. It was one of the few that he could say near perfection. "So sorry no have gift for home."

Samril Steelwater was a young and beautiful dwarf, and not just according to dwarven standards. She had long, light gray-brown hair that reminded Keiichi immediately of Belldandy's, and a warm welcoming smile that set the young man at ease. Her blue eyes and sun-baked skin complimented each other well, giving her a bright countenance.

"Be welcomed in our home Master Keiichi. I am Samril Steelwater and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She smiled and then gently, but firmly took his hands in her own and began searching for dirt. She twisted and turned his hands and arms authoritatively, then nodded and led him to a seat next to Sister Maerdith. Keiichi started to sit, but stopped himself as both Duncan and Bertrold stood from their seats, while Samril took her seat. Duncan helped push in her chair and then returned to his seat.

It was only after everyone had seated themselves that Keiichi finally relaxed himself into the low seat with a sigh. Duncan offered a brief prayer of thanks to Gond and hastily added Ohgma's name for Sister Maerdith's sake, before Samril gathered up her husband's plate. It was such a small act of gratitude that Keiichi had never once thought of doing at home. He had never heard Belldandy offer a prayer. Sure, she bowed her head in meditation for a few moments before every meal, but this was the first time that Keiichi had experienced the novelty of a prayer over food. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

Samril served everyone before she herself took a bite, reminding Keiichi even more of Belldandy. It was such a small thing – a tiny selfless act, but it carried so much weight. Keiichi waited patiently as Samril began piling food onto his plate, but he refrained from taking a bite until she had filled her own plate.

The dinner was odd, but delicious. The potatoes made Keiichi's eyes water and the chicken melted in his mouth. Samril was a wonderful cook and Keiichi found himself passing his plates back and forth for more. The conversation was light as introductions were made, but soon the inevitable questions about Keiichi's homeland came under scrutiny. He nervously fidgeted, unsure of how to approach the subject in spite of all the practice he had gotten at the abbey.

"Master Keiichi is…displaced." Sister Maerdith smiled at Keiichi's discomfort. She took a sip from her mug and waited for Keiichi to take up the tale. He did so reluctantly, but found a sense of peace in the telling. There was open skepticism from Bertrold, but Samril and Duncan both seemed to accept the tale at face value. Keiichi decided it best to change the subject, but Bertrold beat him to it.

"Duncan, may we speak outside?" The dwarf looked at his gnomish patron and immediately knew what was about to occur.

"We've no secrets in this house, Bertrold. You know that." Duncan pushed his plate away from him and laced his fingers together. "Speak your mind."

The gnome began to stroke his red beard uncomfortably, while his eyes were fixed on some point in the ceiling above Keiichi's head. He finally sighed and

"I cannot continue to fund this project any longer." Samril's eyes slowly moved to her husband, as did the other guests. Duncan steepled his hands before his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed a bit.

"There a reason, you're backing out?"

"The machine is too dangerous." Bertrold said defensively.

"So's an axe, and a hammer, and a garden hoe." Duncan said evenly. "The tool's not dangerous Bertrold, it's the way that the tool is used.

"That's not what I mean Duncan, and you know it!" Bertrold said evenly. "Four broken bones and three near death experiences are not what I would consider a safe tool. The blasted contraption is too unstable to use in practical application." Duncan said nothing. He simply nodded and waited for Bertrold to finish. Keiichi felt the overwhelming urge to speak up in defense of Duncan, but held himself in reserve, waiting.

"Even your fellow priests think that this invention is a fool's quest. The vehicle can barely run on a flat surface without bending the wheel rims, how can we expect it to cross multiple types of terrain?" By the way that Duncan sighed, Keiichi could tell that they had had these discussions before. The desire to speak continued to build in him, but out of a truly Japanese sense of propriety, he tried to ignore the conversation completely.

"There are just too many problems to make this creation a feasibly profitable endeavor. Why the engine alone would certainly kill someone outright!"

Duncan looked at his patron and sighed. The despair in the dwarf's eyes began tying Keiichi's stomach in knots. The words were there, and he really wanted to speak them. To tell Duncan that he was on the right track. He watched Samril place a comforting hand over her husband's hand. Keiichi couldn't sit by and watch as another man's dreams were shot down! The dam holding Keiichi's words back broke.

"Problems are easy to fix!" He jumped as all eyes turned to regard him and blushed. Bertrold raised an eyebrow at Keiichi's outburst.

"How can you be so certain, lad?" Duncan asked, his eyes narrowing skeptically. Keiichi thought for a moment, hoping that he could get the words out correctly.

"Uhm…you make…uh, springs for…uhm, front and back forks." He made a compressing motion with his hands to demonstrate his point. Duncan's eyebrow raised thoughtfully, while Bertrold glared at Keiichi.

"And the wheels?" The gnome asked smugly. Keiichi tapped his finger against his lips searching for the right word.

"…gomu…gomu…uh, is like…how you say?" He looked at Sister Maerdith hopefully as she watched the spectacle unfold. "Stuff that stretch and bounce?" The priestess thoughtfully tapped her ink-stained finger against thoughtfully as she tried to make sense of Keiichi's broken thoughts, but finally shrugged not understanding. The young man sighed and ran his hands through his short hair.

"Is like…sap…from tree. When cooked it stretch and bounce. Fill stuff with air and have nice soft ride." Keiichi cursed his limited grasp of the language. Their skeptical looks were enough to make him plow forward though. "No need though, can use wood as extra support."

"Like a wagon wheel!" Samril said excitedly. Keiichi nodded and moved on.

"Engine is not so easy, but not hopeless."

"How so, lad?" Duncan at this point had leaned forward and was completely focused on Keiichi. The displaced gearhead sighed and wondered how he was going to explain a combustion engine to these people with his limited vocabulary.

"You have paper and pencil?"

Samril jumped from her seat and ran to her husband's workshop without a thought. Bertrold sighed and let his chin slump into his palm. Sister Maerdith simply grinned and began jotting down notes about this mysterious substance that could "stretch and bounce". By the time Samril had returned Keiichi and Duncan had cleared the table.

Bertrold and the womenfolk retired sometime later, but Keiichi and Duncan were still deep in discussion when the sun had finally broke the horizon. No one commented on the fact that night had never truly fallen.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Waterdeep Road 

Somewhere halfway between Longsaddle and Triboar

"You want me to what?" Usagi looked down upon the small spade at her feet in the dirt with uncontested disgust and tried not to think of how much her butt hurt. Whoever created horseback riding should have been shot. No. Better yet, condemned to be super-glued naked to their invention!

"Just pick up the damn shovel and go dig the latrine!" Ulin's temper was frayed to the breaking point and beyond. Even Usagi could tell that. It gave the girl a sense of great pride that she could still make someone's life a real pain when they had earned it. She would have to thank Rei for all that wonderful practice once she got back.

It wasn't something that she really enjoyed doing…well, maybe a little (she was an older sister after all). However, it was the fastest way she could think of to get back to Longsaddle. She would apologize to Ulin…eventually.

Usagi watched the other woman as she grumbled and went about clearing the immediate area of rocks and sticks. A fire pit had already been made by previous travelers, and they had even been kind enough to stack some dried wood beneath the rocky over hang that acted as a wind break.

As nice of a place it was, Usagi couldn't help but scowl. She kicked the shovel for good measure before plopping down on a large stone to watch Ulin work. There was no way in heck that she was going to dig anyone's potty! All she wanted was to go home and since that wasn't an option…well, Longsaddle would have to do. She was tired of being bullied. She was tired of being bossed around, and she was certainly tired of cranky, jade-skinned women who thought themselves superior to her in every way. She was the Moon Princess dang it! She deserved a little more respect and by golly, she was going to get it! Even if it meant that she had to be bratty to do it!

The Genasi growled and after about ten minutes of stomping around the clearing kicking rocks and breaking twigs, Ulin had finally had enough. She rounded on Usagi and threw her newest bundle of sticks near the fire pit.

"Get off your lazy arse and do SOMETHING!"

Usagi wasn't sure, but the ground seemed to tremble slightly at Ulin's words.

"MAKE ME!" Tremble or not, the ground shaking wasn't enough to deter Usagi's anger.

Ulin grinned in the same way that Rei used to when Usagi challenged her. It wasn't a nice grin either. A small, jagged spark jumped from Ulin's fingertips and zapped Usagi's nose.

"OW! That hurt you ugly old hag!" More bolts of miniature lightning connected to other, rather sensitive parts of Usagi's anatomy, making her dance and squirm. "Hey! PERVERT! Booger-skinned Witch!"

"Sticks and stone, child. Sticks and stones." Ulin's laughter was insufferable, but her lightning was worse!

"I am not a child!" Usagi screamed as she dodged a third volley of miniature lightning.

"Prove it." Ulin said smugly. Usagi growled and glared at her tormentor. In a swift movement she grabbed her broach and started to transform only to have Ulin zap her hand, forcing her to drop the artifact. For the first time in her life, Usagi used those dirty words that she heard Makoto and Minako using from time to time. A whole string of them flowed freely from her mouth, cursing Ulin and questioning her ancestral heritage.

"Might doesn't make right, little girl." Ulin bent down and snatched up the seemingly innocent piece of jewelry, holding it just out of Usagi's reach. "All the power in the world won't earn you my respect, or anyone else with a thimble full of morals either. You want me to treat you like a woman, then grow up."

"I am a woman!" Usagi emphasized her point by stomping her foot and crossing her arms beneath her breasts. Ulin rolled her eyes and simply kicked the shovel towards Usagi.

"Give me that back." Usagi thrust out her hand, trying very hard to control her anger.

"Earn it back, little girl." The Genasi tossed over her shoulder as she settled onto a rock.

"Give it back Ulin. I mean it."

"After you've dug the latrine, I'll consider it."

Usagi's anger was building. This woman had taken her from her refuge, forced her to endure the horrendous torture of riding the entire day, and now wanted her to do more while holding her property ransom! The air began to pick up into a slight breeze that did nothing but fan her growing ire.

"Return it to me, or so help me…!" Usagi could feel her throat catch and frustrated tears build. The air seemed to become thick, smelling of rain. Ulin looked up to the suddenly cloudy sky distractedly, as she chuckled.

"Or what? You'll cry?"

"GIVE IT BACK DAMNIT!" A silvery light exploded from Usagi's body as a massive bolt of lightning shot from the black clouds above. A large shadowtop tree exploded into splinters nearby, and the volatile thunder that followed the blast knocked Ulin off her perch and set her ears to ringing.

Usagi remained untouched by the sound and the effects of the lightning. Tears rolled down her angry face, and the skies chose that moment to share her raw grief. Her eyes glowed with a silver luster that drove away the shadows. The light that limned her fair skin danced like flames and adorning the center of her forehead was a vibrant, golden crescent.

Fear and wonder were evident on Ulin's face as she scrambled to her feet. Usagi's anger wilted at the woman's alarm, and her face softened. She extended her hand again and all her pain and loneliness broke free of her careful control and escaped to the surface.

"Please, Ulin." She begged. "Please give it back. It's all I have left." She swallowed the large lump of her pride in her throat and bit back her pain. "I'll do what ever you ask if you just give it back."

The jade-skinned woman took care as she approached Usagi and gently laid the artifact in the girl's palm. The glow snapped off immediately and the young woman fairly folded over the broach. She squatted close to the ground and wept. The raw anguish in she felt at being alone, so far away from home, was echoed by the winds rushing through the trees above her. A warm pair of arms encircled her, and long fingered hands began rubbing her back. It took forever for Usagi to gain control over herself, and the warmth of Ulin's embrace had all but put her to sleep. As soon as her tears stopped, so too did the rain cease to fall.

"Forgive me, Usagi." Ulin's voice was laced with guilt. "I meant no true harm."

"Why? Why did you have to bring me out here?" She had to stifle a yawn.

"Because I couldn't stand by and watch you wither. This trip was supposed to be something…to help get your mind off your troubles."

"What if I like my troubles? What if I want to wither?" Usagi asked crossly.

"I cannot be true to my friend and let her harm herself." There was true affection in Ulin's voice. Usagi pushed herself away and stared at the woman. Both of them were drenched to the skin.

"But you just met me!" She protested. Ulin raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"So? I'll have you know that I'm an excellent judge of character."

"But I've been so hateful to you!"

"I gave as good as I got Usagi. Stop blaming yourself."

"But, I almost blasted you!" Usagi's mind finally caught up with her earlier actions and her eyes bulged wide. "HOLY CRAP! I almost blasted you!" The blonde girl began bowing frantically to her companion, flinging water everywhere from her bangs.

"Imsosorry!Imsosorry!Imsosorry!"

Ulin laughed gaily and engulfed Usagi in a hug. She pushed the girl out at arms length and smiled.

"Apology accepted, Little Sister. But only if you will accept mine in turn." Usagi could easily read the hope in the Genasi's eyes and couldn't help but smile and hug the woman. It was such a comforting feeling, that she didn't want to let go. She had felt so alone before, but now…now the loneliness didn't feel so overwhelming.

"Tomorrow we will return to Longsaddle." Ulin commented as she stroked Usagi's hair.

"Where were we going?" She couldn't help voicing her curiosity. Ulin pushed her to arm's length and wiped her tears away.

"To visit a very close friend in the city of Silverymoon."

"Silverymoon?" Usagi's sudden interest doubled.

"I thought that you might like it. However, since you seemed to like that stinky room better…." Usagi shoved her friend playfully, causing Ulin to topple into the mud with a squelch. Mud was soon being slung with abandon amidst giggles and peals of laughter.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

FREE!

FREE!

He was finally free of the box, and he vowed (as only a cat can) that he would never be returning to that stuffy, cramped place.

He jumped and pounced and chased. The sun was bright on his fur as he launched himself upward towards a lazy hawk dangling on the wind. The poor bird nearly feel from the sky in fright as Ranma-neko returned to the earth, some five hundred feet below, in a controlled fall.

He landed nimbly on all fours and shot off again. This time back the way that he came, towards that old gray Tom's house. His jumps and leaps went largely unnoticed until he stopped to chase a dog who had been growling at a small calico tabby in front of a place that smelled wonderfully like fish.

If a cat could grin…

Ranma-neko bound into the shop, batted a juicy fish out to the poor frightened tabby, and then made off with a much larger meal for himself. The shop master screamed and yelled and swung his metal claws at Ranma-neko. But there was no catching the cat. He had his meal and now all he had to do was find a place to sun himself while he ate.

Three more mighty leaps took him up a long stretch of road past any number of suitable houses, but Ranma was particular. The place had to be just so, and he wasn't about to settle when he could already feel the perfect place. One more jump and he landed without so much as a noise at the base of a tree that gave just enough shade and allowed a perfect breeze to cool his fur while he ate.

He started to settle himself cozily in the sun when a bright orange and blue butterfly tickled his nose. He sneezed and batted playfully at the distraction for a time before finally settling himself down to enjoy his snack. He was half way through the small meal when something odd caught his attention.

A breeze wafted around him, carrying the cold scent of something…familiar; a warm lap, soft hands that always knew where to scratch, and food…delicious food. But there was also something else, buried in his memory…a kitten defending her home from the Firebringer.

She had been lost to the hungry fire. And yet here she was before him. Ranma-neko picked up his meal and moved over to where his kitten was seated watching him. He dropped the fish at her feet and leaped onto the table next to her and took stock.

She had grown some from his memories, but she definitely hadn't been eating enough. That and she smelled funny. Ranma-neko sneezed violently. She still smelled of smoke even after all this time. It was definitely time to bathe. He began to purr as he pinned the wayward kitten beneath his paws and began grooming her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Storm Silverhand's Farm 

Shadowdale

It had been all of two days since Sylune last had a visitor to the farm. The ghost formerly known as the Witch of Shadowdale still entertained the elderly who had not forgotten her or were sorely in need of a kind ear. Storm had yet to return from her assault against the drow, but judging by the pillar of Spellfire that she had seen on the horizon there was little reason to worry.

The explosion of power and the horrid scream that had emanated from Elminster's Tower however, merited more than a little concern. The fact that Old Skull had been…damaged was also a note of worry for the spectral harpist. She had been on her way to see Elminster, but something had kept her at the farm. She could feel something important coming and knew that for the time being, she was better off staying close to home.

She had been rewarded almost immediately by a powerful essence settling beneath Storm's favorite silverbark. What greeted Sylune when she rounded the house was anything but what she had expected. A very naked young man acting very much like a cat had not been on her list at all. She watched as the boy batted at a butterfly and noted with some concern that his humanity had all but fled him. Every motion seemed to reflect the exact nature of a feline that Sylune found herself wondering what manner of spell could rob a person of their senses so completely.

She sat on the warm stone bench near the birdbath and watched the boy eat for a time, pondering the problem. There were a number of spells that could imitate catlike behavior, but there were very few that could replace the mind of a man with that of a cat. Perhaps this was a polymorphed cat that had been given a human form? It was a stretch, but it was the best that she could come up with at the moment. She sighed and allowed her eyes to focus on the boy again. He was handsome and well muscled – a form that any woman with a liking for men could enjoy watching. The ghost let her mouth quirk into a small grin. She was starting to sound more and more like Storm everyday.

This thought was still on her mind when the boy's eyes shot up and stared directly at her. She had not made herself visible in any manner and yet the boy was staring her dead in the eye. More to her surprise was the fact that he picked up his fish and promptly laid it at her feet.

Sylune was about to give her thanks to the catboy and offer him greeting, when he jumped onto the table and drew his face close to hers. Their noses were almost touching, when the boy sneezed and wrinkled his nose at her. The look that he leveled at her was filled with patient exasperation, as if she were some wayward kitten! In all her long years of living…and half living on the face of Faerun, she had never been in such an awkward and nerve wracking situation. Embarrassment flooded her for no apparent reason, and she suddenly felt self-conscious…as if she were a young maiden all over again!

A deep, resonant purring began to rumble from deep in his chest unsettling Sylune's ghost even further and throwing off her guard completely. The world spun wildly for her and there was a sharp pain in her shoulder.

Sylune blinked.

She hadn't felt pain, true pain, in ages! A wet warmth spread across her face sending chills down Sylune's spine as the boy's purring deepened even further. She closed her eyes and lost herself in the rhythm. It was such a warm and comforting sound that made her tingle all over.

Spine? Tingle? By the Goddess! This couldn't be real! Sylune kept her eyes firmly shut and refused to open them for fear of breaking the dream. She could feel his weight bearing down on her chest and stomach, pressing her into the soft, prickly grass beneath her. She could smell the rich flavor of his sweat mixing with the sweetness of Her sister's rose garden.

A warm breeze danced up her arms and kissed the wet skin of her face where the boy was seemingly bathing her. The careful measure of his breathing danced in concert with hers. She was feeling dizzy. Mystra's Flame! How long since she had felt such an odd and wonderful sensation!

The boy moved to her neck, tickling a rather sensitive spot that caused her to squirm and giggle girlishly. She moaned longingly and struggled to shift her weight, but the boy refused to move from his perch. The smell of fish was thick on his breath, which killed her excitement rather quickly. A disappointment really as she had been really starting to enjoy his attentions.

Sylune's eyes flew open and for the first time in over sixteen years she saw color! The sky was such a crisp spring blue, and the silverbark shimmered just so! Tears welled in Sylune's eyes and she sat up spilling the boy into her lap. He started to squirm but her arms found gathered him into a bone-crushing embrace. She wept for the simple joy of weeping again, and laughed when the boy started to meow uncomfortably. She loosened her arms enough for him to leap to the table and begin cleaning himself.

She had no idea how or why this wondrous miracle had happened, but she had this young man to thank for it. He looked her in the eyes one more time, and something on his chest flared with a bright, silvery light. She squinted and took note of something that looked like Mystra's symbol, save for the eighth star. She reached her hand out tentatively and the boy arched his back to run along her fingertips. The sensual grace with which he moved caused her face to heat. When she didn't respond to his urgings, he bumped into her side knocking her over again.

Sylune could only stare at the glowing symbol on his chest in awe and wonder. Had Mystra brought her back? Was this her doing or had something new happened to the Goddess of Magic that Sylune was unaware of? She was so caught up in her thoughts that she almost missed the small, affectionate lick to her nose. She looked up at the boy's beautiful steel blue eyes and lost herself in their large, unassuming depths. He continued to purr as he made an impossible leap to the roof of the cottage behind her. She rolled onto her belly to track his movement and was further astonished as he leapt high into the air and used a cloud to launch him farther to the east.

Without further ado, Sylune, the former Ghost Witch of Shadowdale sprang to her feet. She hiked her skirts well over her knees and ran as fast as she could to Elminster's Tower. If she was to find any answers at all, she was certain that they would be found there.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Elminster's Tower 

Shadowdale

It was as close to midnight as you could get, and Elminster was still reeling from all that had happened earlier in the day. It was still light out, confirming Elminster's growing suspicions over the identities of the women that the boy had left behind.

Storm had woken, taken one look at the destruction around her and stole El's glass from his hand. He was well into his drink by that time and hadn't minded a bit. Brailen and Valor had somehow managed to wrestle the tower's newest "guests" into their respective rooms without so much as a by your leave to Elminster. The Magister did request, in his most polite and dashing tone, that it might be in the best interests of everyone's health if the women in question were separated to the opposite ends of the tower from each other.

Whether the women understood his slurring speech or not, El didn't know. They seemed to at least move in opposite directions when they left the room though, so that was something. When Sylune arrived, somewhat disheveled and no longer transparent, El raised his twenty-sixth glass of Turish Rum in toast to her. The smell of fish was heavy on her, which gave El a nasty bout of the munchies. This of course prompted the Peanut Quest, which had ended badly when Valor rapped him over the head with her wooden spoon and kicked him out of the kitchen.

He had thought that looking down her bodice was a clever notion! After all, that where he would have hidden the peanuts….

Bereft of munchies and still too sober for his liking, Elminster wound his way into the sitting room hunting for crackers. They weren't quite as satisfying, but beggars couldn't be choosers. He ran afoul of an intense explosion of estrogen as Sylune, Storm, and Alrassa were crying over something that made absolutely no sense to the mage. He managed to solicit the Simbul for some company…or was it crackers? He couldn't remember. Her response to set his bottom on fire was not welcome at all!

A simple "No." would have sufficed!

At a loss for munchies, and still way too clear-headed for the new guests occupying the rooms above him, Elminster trundled out into his garden and looked up at the twisted remains of Old Skull. Things would be stirring in their depths by tomorrow, if they hadn't started already, which meant that someone was going to have to deal with the fallout. This meant that he would be entertaining more guests come tomorrow, atop the mountain of concerns that already resided in his home.

He snapped his fingers and produced another bottle of rum, before sitting himself sloppily on a small pillow of air.

"'Sorry about this.', he says!" Elminster snorted and took a drag straight from the bottle. "Better me than thee, eh boy?" The mage chuckled at himself and looked out toward Cormanthor. Flashes of power could be felt cropping up now and again, and El knew that the boy was busy at work. He raised his bottle in salute and settled back to watch the stars dance in the night sky. The oddity that it wasn't dark hit him, causing him to giggle impishly. There would be hell to pay soon enough. For now, there was drinking to be done.

And that was exactly what Elminster did.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**End Chapter Four**_


	5. Chapter 5

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer: **

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Foreword:**

Thanks goes out to the incredible men and women that work at Wizards of the Coast. I've been gleaning information left and right from just about every little bit of source material I can find, old and new. I give credit where credit is due. These incredibly creative people came up with the source material…I'm just playing around with their worlds. Here's a short list of where I'm getting most of my background information:

Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting – Greenwood, Reynolds, Williams, and Heinsoo

Magic of Faerun – Sean K. Reynolds, Duane Maxwell, Angel McCoy

Faiths and Pantheons – Eric L. Boyd and Erik Mona

The Silver Marches – Ed Greenwood and Jason Carl

D&D 3rd Edition Core Rules – Player's Handbook, DMG, Monster Manual

Pool of Radiance: Attack on Myth Drannor (3rd Edition) – Sean K. Reynolds

**The Seven Sisters **– Ed Greenwood

**The Fall of Myth Drannor** – Steven E. Schend

**The Savage Frontier** – Paul Jaquays

**These** last three are classic 2nd Edition sources

**Also**:

Special thanks to Silk for correcting a major Faux Pas on my part.

Storm knew Spellfire when she saw it. She was intimately aware of the rare  
and special gift that Mystra graced her favored with. The black lightning,  
though...that was something new. She stared hard at the boy and was taken aback by  
the look of extreme terror that settled over his face.

Here's what Silk had to say:

"This is actually incorrect. The chosen of Mystra have a gift known as  
Silverfire, not Spellfire. Spellfire is the ability to absorb and channel magic into  
a pure form of mystical energy, Elminster himself only has the tiniest amount  
of this ability (enough to light his trusty pipe for flash:) ) Silverfire  
however is an actual part of the essence of the weave and of Mystra herself that  
she has bestowed upon Khelbon, Elminster, and her daughters.

"TSR released the Hero's Lorebook which had the most information about both  
types of power, however here is a link to most of the information concerning   
Silverfire."

http/ again Silk for catching my mistake! Future chapters will reflect this distinction, and I will amend the previous chapters in the revision.

C&C appreciated.

Enjoy!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Realms**

**Chapter Five**

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Elminster's Tower**

Shadowdale

No one really slept in the tower that night. None of the current inhabitants seemed to need sleep except for Valor and well, maybe Elminster who had drunk himself into an incredible stupor. He wasn't exactly in the tower itself though, if the sounds of his snoring were any indication. The Simbul, the most deadly and volatile of the Seven Sisters was currently giggling and braiding little pink bows into the man's beard. But wisely no one made comment about this. A grumpy wizard of Elminster's caliber was not someone to be mocked.

Valor, Elminster's newest scribe, had been busy cleaning up the debris from the previous day's excitement with the aid of a group of elementals through most of the night. The good-hearted drow said few words to any, save to ask them to lift their feet or slide a little to the left as she went about her tasks. She showed no signs of tiring any time soon, but then the damage to the tower made exhaustion a forgone inevitability.

The sisters had politely offered to help, and had even summoned a few of their own servants and elementals to aid Valor in her single minded battle against the debris. The drow however had pointedly told them that they were guests and that they weren't to trouble themselves further. Thus, Storm and Sylune had cooked up a small breakfast while Valor had been distracted by a cluster of imps that had gotten free of their containment, and sat down with Brailen to chat quietly at the kitchen table. The two mysterious guests had yet to awaken, and in everyone's mind, this was a good thing. All things considered, and in light of the chaos, everything was going rather smoothly. It was certain not to last.

These things rarely do.

Which was why, at Highsun, when all the crickets fell silent and the small breeze in the trees had died, Valor quietly excused herself to go to the market. Her timing, as usual, was impeccable. She had actually made it to the main road before the Tower literally exploded with activity. Yet another room disappeared in a conflagration of smoke and purple flame. Night abruptly fell and in spite of the sun's position in the sky, one could easily see the stars.

Luckily, she had the foresight to bring a lantern along with her. She didn't really need it, but it set the merchants at ease when they could see her face clearly.

If the tower survived intact, Valor was sure to have her work cut out for her when she returned. But, considering the life that Elminster had rescued her from, she figured that cleaning was a small price to pay. The drow began humming a soft traveling song and contemplated what shopping needed to be done and where she could find the best prices. Another explosion from the tower helped her come her decision – there was a Magefair being hosted somewhere in Tethyr. By the time she found it and returned, Elminster should have things well in hand.

If not…well, Valor had learned the need of a back up plan early in life. Few survived in the drow city of Ched Nasad without them. She just hoped that she didn't have to use it.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Waterdeep Road**

Somewhere between Longsaddle and Triboar

Usagi hadn't been able to sleep a wink because of the light. She and Ulin had stayed up half the "night" talking about what they could expect throughout the trip. Monsters, bandits, maybe a mage duel or two if they were lucky – and if they weren't, they might stumble across an Orc horde or an army bent on wiping a city from the face of the earth. Perhaps even sight a dragon.

Oh, joy!

Had it been dark out, Usagi was positive that she would have stayed awake all night any way – just from the stories that her friend told. The way that Ulin could speak about Specters and Watch Ghosts so casually gave Usagi the shivers.

On the bright side, the Genasi had told Usagi that she was going to start teaching her the rudiments of magic. Ulin had even gone so far as to test her potential. Apparently her latent talent for spellcasting was rather…well Ulin had said astounding, but Usagi felt that the woman was just trying to make her feel better. The small rock was supposed to have lit up, not exploded!

Still, anything to pass the time was better than nothing – even if it meant…studying. Ugh!

That was the hardest thing about the trip…the mind-numbing boredom. They had been traveling for hours – she really had no idea how long. Ulin had said it was best to make use of the time that they had, while they had it. And so they started riding hours before the sun had even crested the horizon (not that they needed it any more). The landscape was pretty, but monotonous and Ulin didn't talk much. All she would do was look at the sky worriedly from time to time and pour over her spell book, leaving Usagi to her own devices.

What she wouldn't have given for a cd player or a working television…or some of Rei's manga! Anything to help her stay awake in the saddle. More than once she had found herself nodding off, and on one occasion Ulin had jabbed her wickedly in the ribs for falling completely asleep. Usagi had been leaning nearly horizontal, with her head stretched out over Mister Horse's rump. Had it not been for the magic saddle, Usagi would have fallen from her mount long ago. Probably cracked her head open too.

The displaced moon princess smacked her lips and rubbed the grainy gook from her eyes. She needed a toothbrush too – her breath positively reeked! Oh, and a bath - a nice hot bath with lots and lots of bubbles. Ugh! She had never in her life smelled so funky! It was embarrassing. Usagi sighed and looked skyward for the twentieth time, noting that the sun had almost reached its peak. Her stomach growled noisily.

Food. She needed food.

"Can we stop yet?" She tried not to whine. Whining was a sure way to have ulin growl at you, and Usagi thought that was really scary. But the saddle was really starting to do her in. Her butt had long since gone numb and her legs were all prickly and her back ached! Ulin, of course, ignored her. The other woman's nose was buried deeply in her book, and from past experience with Ami, Usagi knew that there was little hope of drawing a woman like that out of her studies.

Still, it wouldn't hurt to test her theory.

"Oh, look! A dragon intent on barbequing us." No reaction. Usagi sighed and reined her mount over to poke Ulin in the leg. She had covered about half the distance between them, when day turned suddenly into night. Ulin's head shot up from her book and stared at Usagi blankly. The girl raised her hands defensively and shook her head. "I had nothing to do with it!"

The Genasi sighed and looked worriedly at the sun overhead. Usagi followed her gaze and blinked in confusion. The moon was nowhere near the sun, which ruled out an eclipse. No, the sun was in the same position that it had been, still burning brightly, yet the sky around it was black as night. Usagi could see stars twinkling above her and a shiver ran down her spine. There was just something really…religious…about an event like this. Usagi wasn't into religion – not really. But this…this was like…whoa!

Ulin motioned them off to the side of the road as she shoved her spellbook back into a leather satchel hanging at her hip. Usagi started to follow her, when a ground-shaking roar ripped across the sky. She looked down at her stomach quizzically and rubbed it affectionately.

"I know. I know. We'll feed you soon."

Ulin cursed and spun her mount around just as a great shadow passed over them. The sound of taut fabric humming through the wind, raced overhead. Usagi looked up and caught sight of a gargantuan blood red body shooting past their position.

Shingo had gone through a dinosaur period when he was five. The gnat had pestered Usagi with various facts, night and day about his favorite dinosaurs for over six months. Half a year of listening to sizes, weights, and dietary habits had nearly driven Usagi insane, and any time she saw the Jurassic Park logo on anything, her blood boiled. She had hated her little brother's enthusiasm, even more so when he used it to insult her – she did _not_ eat as much as a brontosaurus, thank you very much! She hated how her mother and father egged him on. Now however, she could appreciate her little brother's fascination.

It wasn't easy to try and catalogue the beast. It seemed to be the size of a small, red mountain. Its wings were huge, but its body was…colossal! She had never seen anything more majestic in her entire life. Power radiated off the creature, even from half a mile away.

It was beautiful.

Sharp horns shaped a veritable crown that fanned outward from the creature's head, were easily noticeable even from this distance and Usagi could see that its body was severly wounded and smoldering in many places. Part of its back seemed to have a thick coat of…ice covering it, and the left wing had a huge gaping hole. It was amazing that it could even hold enough wind to still fly at all. She watched as the dragon banked sharply and caught a rising thermal. It rose up into the sky and there was a flash of lightning that blasted forth from his right wing.

Usagi tracked the bolt and watched dumbfounded as it took another smaller dragon directly in the face. The white creature was stunned and the red dragon roared. A fireball leapt from its left wing and impacted the white dragon in the side. There was an incredible explosion and Usagi watched in horror as the white dragon's smoking corpse fell from the sky.

She dimly heard Ulin screaming at her from somewhere far away, and idly noted the sensation of movement, but she could not take her eyes from the battle. Three more dragons, two red and one black, attacked in unison pressing the larger dragon. It tried to retreat, and made a break for Usagi's position. Blood dripped from ugly wounds, and the winds of the great beast's passing overhead nearly tore her from her saddle.

Three more roaring figures rocketed just above the treetops, unleashing flame and acid on their prey. Fear unlike any other she had ever experienced gripped Usagi's heart and pulled her back to reality.

Ulin was nearly flat against her horse's neck and spurring the beast for greater speed. Usagi's reins were clutched tightly in her hand as she led Mister Horse at a break neck speed into another thicket of trees. The moon princess glanced over her shoulder in time to see another dragon falling from the sky. It was one of the smaller reds, and its face was a broken, smoldering ruin. She could see a trail of blood flowing from an incredible hole in its neck and more wounds besides. The idea that it was on a collision course directly for them hardly registered.

All that she could think of were her earlier joke about a dragon barbecuing them.

"I didn't mean it." She whispered to the wind.

To her right, through the safety of the trees, she saw the black dragon impact in a large field. A plume of dust and sod exploded in a fountain of violence. The dragon tried to get back into the air, but the colossal red fell upon it. Claws raked, jaws crushed, and teeth tore. Usagi watched in wide-eyed fascination as blood flowed from the primal dance. Fountains of shot skyward, like black rain in the light of dragon fire. The murderous conflict was over in seconds and then the red was back in the air, rolling to avoid a number of magical attacks from the last red. She had never seen such grace in all her life.

Ulin looked back and screamed something. Usagi couldn't understand what, but a second later she was bracing herself as the ground opened up beneath them. There was a loud "whoosh!" and Usagi felt her fall arrested as the vacuum of the falling dragon's body passed overhead. The horses screamed and tried to roll with their fall.

Mister Horse miraculously kept his legs, but Usagi's world was a mad blur as her body was jerked every which way. Clouds of dust and dry earth made it almost impossible to breath. So much so that Usagi found herself coughing more than breathing. Light headed and shivering, the moon princess tried to urge Mister Horse out of the dust and into cleaner air.

It took several minutes for the air to clear. When Usagi could finally see again, she noted that they were in some sort of tunnel about thirty feet beneath the surface. Mounds of earth and roots, as well as a half buried tree lay beneath the gaping hole in the sky. A roar split the darkness followed by another, causing Usagi to shiver.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to be back in her bed, with all of this being just some weird, ice cream induced nightmare. She wanted to see Mamo-chan again. She wanted to give that Ulin a piece of her mind! What was the crazy woman thinking? What was the big idea? Taking her out into dragon country like that! Of all the irresponsible…

Usagi's eyes angrily drifted over the destruction, looking for Ulin and her horse. Stone and loose soil were piled at the far end of the tunnel opposite her. The sorceress was nowhere to be seen.

"Ha ha. Cute Ulin." Usagi's eyes drifted everywhere, hoping to catch sight of the woman before she could spring the obvious prank. "You think you can feed me a bunch of spooky stories, get us chased by dragons, and then pull some lame disappearing act?" Usagi's voice echoed in the tunnels ominously causing her to tremble. She started to walk towards the pile of earth, waiting for Ulin to pop up at any second.

"You think that you can just jump out and scream 'boo' and scare me! Well, it's not going to work! You hear? So, you might as well come out so that we can get out of this hole!" The only sound that greeted her as she moved closer to the mound was the tumbling of loose rock and soil as it fell onto the packed earth beneath her feet. Usagi looked up to see if Ulin had somehow not fallen into the hole. Had she been looking down, she would have seen the dirty, jade colored hand that ultimately tripped her.

She squawked as she fell, painfully smashing her cheek against her forearm as she braced for herself for the impact. Her breasts throbbed from the fall and she had smashed the funny bone of her left elbow on a rock. Numbness was soon replaced by the sensation of hundreds of tiny needles dancing on her nerves as she pushed herself to her knees. She massaged her breasts grumpily and tried to get most of the dirt from her blouse. The garment was long gone, but she wasn't ready to burn it quite yet.

"I'm not laughing, Ulin! Come on! I'm not in the mood to play games!" Usagi grumbled and turned back to look at what she had tripped over. The second that her eyes fell on the half exposed arm of her friend, she screamed and started digging.

It seemed to take forever to free the green skinned sorceress, but when Usagi had finally pulled her from the debris, she sighed in relief. Ulin's chest rose and fell steadily. She had a nasty bruise on her shoulder and her leg was bent at an odd angle, which wasn't too good. Still, she was alive. Her poor horse didn't make it though. Usagi could see where its legs were partially sticking out of one side of the mound of dirt.

She did her best to make Ulin comfortable, while trying to remember the rudimentary first aid lessons that she had learned from Ami-chan. Ami-chan had tried to teach all the Senshi a few things, just in case one of them was hurt badly while fighting, but for the life of her, Usagi could only remember that silly rhyme.

"If the face is pale raise the tail. If the face is red, raise the head." She glanced at Ulin ponderously before raising her head to the heavens. "How's that supposed to help someone whose got green skin?"

Usagi slumped to the ground and sighed. She did remember something about keeping your patient warm, which meant she would need blankets. The temperature was starting to drop, and the last thing she needed was for Ulin to catch a chill. Usagi scanned the area for Mister Horse and her saddlebags and set about making her friend as warm as possible. Once she was satisfied that Ulin wasn't going to freeze, Usagi set about trying to get to Ulin's saddlebags.

She didn't want to freeze either.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The town of Highden**

Lantan

Bertrold looked at the dark sky bleakly and shuddered. There were few on the streets of Highden due to the sudden…change in the celestial constants. Still, he supposed that the sun had still risen in the east this morning so that was one less thing that the gnome had to worry about. He shook his head and wondered which of the tall races had decided to plunge the world into turmoil this time.

Well, it wasn't his problem - at least not until it came knocking on his door. He had other concerns at the moment, all of them centering on a dwarf and his new human friend. He had left the pair late into the night, or at least what should have been night according to his clock. Duncan had been firing question after ceaseless question at the lad, and Master Keiichi had been bumbling awkwardly through the answers. The Oghmite had been struggling to translate when the pair came to an impasse, but the last he had seen of the woman had been when Sam draped a couple of blankets over her sleeping body.

Bertrold hadn't been able to make head nor tail of the information or the diagrams that Master Keiichi was coming up with, but Duncan apparently had. The gleam and fire behind the dwarf's eyes had sent chills up and down Bertrold's spine. The gnome had no idea how the pair intended to harness the power of electricity or the power of the sun for that matter, but the boy had fanned Duncan's flagging flames last night.

To an extent he had eased some of Bertrold's fears as well – not completely mind you, just enough to stick around for a little longer. If things worked out the way that he hoped, the gnome was certain to be rolling in gold by the end of the year. If they didn't go as planned…well, another month wouldn't hurt him much more than he already was.

Bertrold continued to meander his way through the hodgepodge of mismatched houses that made up the "foreign quarter" of Lantanese society, making his way steadily to the Steelwater Workshop. Gnomish buildings were comfortable, and built to the right size, but living in Highden offered one an unmistakable perspective on the world. It wasn't as easy to lose yourself to the narrow mindset that so many of his colleagues kept finding themselves in these days. As a merchant, there was nothing worse than losing touch with the markets that fed your change purse.

He passed Oghma's Road and barely spared the Abbey a second glance. It sat on its hillock, overlooking the inland meadows that stood as a boundary between Sundrah and Highden. He soon had made his way down past the square and up Smooty's Lane to the Steelwater Workshop. Lights were on inside the drawing room and kitchen, so he made his way around to the back and knocked on the kitchen door. Sam presented herself immediately and smiled warmly to Bertrold.

"Good…" She looked at the sky and shook her head dubiously. "How are you, Master Bendlebranch?"

"Perfectly well, Madame Steelwater. And yourself?" He asked cordially as she took his hat and cane.

"A bit topsy-turvy truth be told. But well enough. Thank you for asking."

Bertrold heard voices being raised in frustration in the direction of the drawing room. Sam sighed and shook her head.

"Still at it, eh?" Bertrold could see a fresh pot of tea being brewed. "How many pots have they gone through?" He asked with a grin.

"Seven…no eight. Duncan is running poor Master Keiichi ragged."

"Duncan is a tenacious old cuss." Bertrold laughed and shook his head. "How's the lad holding up?"

Sam smiled and shook her head.

"If anything, I would say that the young man is more excited about this than Duncan."

"Have they made much progress?" Sam nodded proudly.

"Master Keiichi finished the diagrams sometime around the fifth hour this morning. Right now they're arguing about fuel."

"Fuel?" Bertrold said cautiously. He was almost afraid to ask. "Have they done away with the steam engine already?" Sam shrugged.

"You'll have to ask them about the details, I'm afraid." The teakettle began to whistle, drawing the dwarf woman to the stove. "Have you eaten lunch yet, Bertrold?" The red bearded gnome grinned irreverently.

"I had a late breakfast, but if you're cooking Sam, you know I won't turn you down." Sam smiled and set an extra place at the table for the latecomer. Voices began rising in the drawing room, causing Bertrold to look at Sam questioningly. She barely noticed the fervor of the argument it seemed and continued preparing the afternoon meal. Both turned at the sound of a door slamming open.

"It burns like the sun I tell you!" Duncan's face was set in a stony mask of determination, and young Keiichi was nursing his temples and following the dwarf. The two stomped down the hallway and into the kitchen without pausing.

"Bertrold." Duncan growled on his way past the gnome out the back door. He stomped as well as any dwarf, which meant that his heavy boots made all the porcelain in the house dance in their cupboards.

"Duncan." The gnome replied with a cheery smile.

Keiichi bowed politely, if hastily, to both Sam and Bertrold, and quickly shuffled out to the shop on Duncan's heels. Both Sam and the gnome went to the door and watched as Duncan led Keiichi, not to the shop as the spectators had supposed, but to the root cellar instead. Neither appeared for a few minutes, but Bertrold was certain that Duncan was yelling.

The gnome pulled out his pipe and began chewing on the end of the stem to bide his time. When they appeared from the depths of the cellar, Keiichi was gesturing frantically and trying to make himself understood.

"…No is just burning! Is mix of fuel that make it work! Bad mix choke engine!" Duncan whirled on Keiichi and jabbed a stout finger into the young man's stomach, pulling the human up short. The grin on the dwarf's face was anything but welcoming.

"When I'm done cookin' lad, all that's left is a pure brew." He grabbed Keiichi's sleeve and drug the boy into the shop. Bertrold stood poised on the stoop, wondering if he should venture out to investigate. The flash and boom of an explosion settled the matter for him. He liked his beard the way that it was, thank you very much.

Keiichi and Duncan stumbled out of the shop looking beleaguered. The poor human's hair was standing away from his head and his face was black as pitch. His eyes had an unhealthy glaze to them. Duncan was laughing.

Laughing!

Bertrold couldn't remember the last time that he had seen the dwarf laugh so freely. He looked to Sam. From the way that her face was beaming and the tiny tear that she was wiping from her eye, it had been a long time for her as well.

Bertrold sized up the human anew. He had written the lad off as a crackpot, what with that "suitor-of-a-goddess" drivel. But looking at the boy now, Bertrold was second-guessing himself. He had seen first hand, on many occasions, that the line between genius and insanity was fairly thin. And having a genius under one's wing was always profitable business. Especially when they weren't connected to the Gondian Order. Bertrold smiled and decided that he would stick around to see what the boy proposed…perhaps he could even cook up something of an acid test for the lad.

Yes, that would work nicely. Something small that would help support the project and pad the lad's purse a bit. Nothing gave a being confidence better than the shine of gold. And if the creation sold well, then Bertrold would know for certain whether young Master Keiichi was nothing more than fool's gold, or if he truly was the mother lode.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Somewhere in Cormanthor**

Ranma-Neko sprang through the tress, bounding from limb to limb with hardly a care in the world. She had seen a number of the black-skinned almost-men moving through the shadows below her, but she decided to avoid them for the most part.

There was one though, that Ranma-Neko had run across that seemed different than the rest. She had encountered the almost-man just after it had rained. The white maned creature had begun acting foolish almost immediately, making strange noises that hurt Ranma-Neko's ears. He had smelled of sickness too. Thus Ranma-Neko had intelligently moved deeper into the forest, leaving the ill, almost-man behind.

The place was alive with old things that tickled deep memories. Those things that care-givers, warm-laps, smelly-barkers, and almost-men always forgot. The forest also carried the scents of the twisted-ones, the burning-ones, and dead-ones. Ranma-Neko didn't like these things at all. Especially considering the fact that they were living in her new territory.

She would have to drive them out sooner or later, but first she needed to ease her hunger. The great fire had set long ago, which meant that it was time to hunt. Ranma-Neko sprang from her branch and began her silent search for dinner.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Day turned into night and night consumed the day. For the space of three revolutions of the sun, Shar shrouded the sky in perpetual night and Mystra's silver fires lit up the dark skies. The sages of men and elves whispered in their cloisters, speculating on the return of the gods to Toril. Prophets and Doomsayers rose among the cities of Faerun crying that the end of all things had come.

The ascetics of Candlekeep scoffed at this and told all those involved that they were smoking too much barley and hemp. The great seer Alaundo had plainly said that the end wouldn't come for another seven thousand…no, it was eight thousand…sorry, but he clearly stated that it was after the fall of The Angel's City which was said to be consumed by the ocean after the manner of the great and abominable Gates of William….

The ascetics of Candlekeep fell into their customary bickering over the interpretation of prophesy and were thus largely ignored by those with any sense. There were more important things to consider. Namely finding a way to somehow survive the coming cataclysm.

The thought of yet another Time of Troubles inspired the likely feelings amongst the inhabitants of Toril. This of course led to a large amount of looting and pillaging on one hand, and a serious upswing in attention to prayers and offerings on the other.

Many intelligent people blamed wizards, which of course was a valid assumption considering the mindset of most wizarding folk. The search for power and unlocking the secrets of the universe often opened doors that were best left closed after all.

Thus, when a few of the Order Arcanum were approached by your everyday, run of the mill lynch mobs, they used their considerable intellect to point their fingers to someone else. This went on for quite some time, until finally enough people had gathered to be considered an army. The fact that they were marching on Shadowdale surprised no one in the least. As mobs went, the saying held true: the more people that gather, the lower the collective intelligence tends to be.

Most of the wizards who had directed the crowd to Elminster decided that a vacation was in order, on the off chance that the Archmage got it into his head to do some scrying for the guilty parties – "out of sight, out of mind" and all that. This of course, while not the most intelligent course of action, was probably the smartest thing anyone had done in the last three days…nights…eh, whatever.

You see…there's nothing more frightening than a Master Mage when he's pissed.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Elminster's Tower**

Shadowdale

Elminster was miffed.

Not just a little bit upset, but understandably perturbed.

He wanted to be drunk. Really, really drunk. But there was no more alcohol left in the tower. Valor had been gone to market for three days now, and El openly wondered if his drow friend was going to return. If she was smart she wouldn't. In the off case that she did, she had damn well better bring the hooch if she knew what was good for her.

Brailen, Storm, and Sylune had left to visit Aglarond with the Simbul, cheerily waving to him on their way out the door amidst the sound of breaking china and shattered furniture. That had been a day ago, and they had taken the last three kegs of Brandleberry whiskey with them too.

Traitors.

And here he had thought that Alrassa loved him. The Simbul had pulled his arse from the pits of Hell after all. That had to count for something right?

El barked a melancholy laugh.

Sure she loved him, but who was he kidding? Alrassa was the most intelligent woman he knew. She wouldn't poke her head into this hornet's nest, love or no love. She had the decency to ask him to come with them, but he had been extremely inebriated at the time. He thought he had said something along the lines of "…save thine own pretty hide…" and made a comment about perfect breasts before passing out. When he woke he had lip paint all over his face and a mushy love letter that said if he survived the next day, she would gladly marry him.

Apparently she had gone to gather reinforcements, or some such nonsense.

El sighed and winced as yet another explosion shook the tower. The once proud structure of his home was now a ramshackle ghost of what it had been two days ago. He had saved what little he could, and mourned the rest.

Priceless treasures from throughout the planes had perished at the hands of the squabbling goddesses. None more cherished than the Book of Dreams written by that Gaiman fellow. Lord Dream and Lady Death had even signed it! And now, it was gone.

Gone like a dream….

"…like a dream…."

El laughed darkly for a very long time at his pun. He wondered what it would take to humble a pair of greater goddesses. He'd accomplished a great deal in his life, but not even he was _that_ good. He sighed and propped his bearded chin in his upturned hand.

No, it was best to stick with the problems one could handle…namely the aquatransexual catboy that had left this fetid mess burning on his doorstep. What could he possibly do to pay the child back for such a wondrous gift? The possibilities were endless.

"HE'S MINE!"

"CRASH!" There went his Seafolk porcelain. El frowned by continued forward with his original line of thinking.

The possibilities were endless, true. But was the reward worth the pain of earning the enmity of a goddess?

"IN YOUR DREAMS, BLACKHEARTED WHORE! I'M TEN TIMES THE GODDESS YOU ARE!"

Er…make that two. Damned if he did. Damned if he didn't.

"WHORE? Take that, you pimple-bottomed Coddlefairy!"

This whole affair had moved beyond embarrassing and into the down right insane. What manner of boy could inspire such base jealousy in women…let alone a pair of goddesses? Elminster had neither clue nor care. All that he wanted at the moment was a stiff drink and a way to reclaim what little peace he had won for himself. Sadly, these goals were very much out of reach at the moment.

More shattering…more explosions…more senseless destruction…more screaming. Oooh! A crash! There went his vinyl collection.

"Elvis has left the building." The Archmage whispered soulfully. If he hadn't already cried himself dry, El would have wept.

It wasn't fair!

El's head slumped to the kitchen table and rested heavily upon his arms. Maybe he could cast another silence spell over himself. It would last all of what? Three minutes? No. A weak and ultimately feeble divine spell wasn't what he needed right now. Besides Mystra would roast him if he distracted her for the spell. She had made that very clear the first time around. Thermgald's Thunderous Silence lasted a full two hours – true it left you with a hideous migraine afterwards, but Elminster was already suffering from one of those, so why not?

He lifted himself upright in his chair, intent on enjoying his last moments of life in peace and quiet as his poor tower crumbled down around his ears.

Had someone not been brave enough to knock at the door and draw the mage's curiosity, the Realms may have suffered the untimely fate that had most of Faerun feared was imminent. Elminster levered himself from the stout wooden chair and meandered leisurely through the destruction, humming a slow mournful tune – inadvertently saving the world from yet another cataclysmic event.

Such is the power of choice.

The door chimes rang again and again, but El's pace didn't change. By the time he had reached the door, the chimes were ringing as if a hurricane were blowing outside. With a grand flourish, Elminster flung open the door and bowed low without even bothering to look at the figure before him. He held that pose for sometime, praying that this was a Thayan assassin come to finally put him out of his misery.

"Sorry cutie. I don't do mercy."

El opened his eyes at the sound of the sultry voice and was greeted by the most astonishingly perfect set of tanned legs that he had ever encountered. Sculpted musculature hinted at strength, while capitalizing on the natural softness of the feminine calf.

"Wondrous!" was the only word that came to mind.

Nicely turned ankles (thin, but not too bony) led into a pair of small (but not petite) feet shod in a pair of black, flip flop sandals. The toes were smooth, with the nails painted a warm metallic copper.

His admiration grew as his eyes slowly traveled upward to take in the severe, short gray skirt that ended at mid thigh. Hmmm…such finely shaped thighs too! Black pinstripes raced down a matching short coat, that surprisingly lay open to the cool nigh…er, afternoo…evening breezes. Elminster's eyes paused at an ample amount of tanned cleavage peeking out from the low-buttoned perfectly white blouse, and a small pleasant grin slowly spread across his face.

The grin was wiped away by the intrusion of an elegantly powerful hand that breached his vision. It, like the rest of the figure was perfectly formed to represent elegance and refinement. A small rectangular card made of gold, and the folded piece of white paper that was held tightly behind it, piqued the wizard's interest.

Elminster dutifully took both and read them without so much as looking at the woman's face. One could argue stress as the cause for his rudeness, or fatigue, or the nasty effects of a really bad hangover. In the end it didn't truly matter. The outcome would inevitably remain the same.

His grasp of the Rokugani was rusty, but thankfully the characters rearranged themselves into a number of different languages that he knew.

"Kinhon'i. Goddess First Class, Unlimited. Department of Divine Auditing." El scratched his beard thoughtfully and finally brought his gaze up to the woman's lovely face. Her coppery hair was cut in an attractive page-boy style, that left her slender neck exposed. Her smile was warm, yet mischievous, and her emerald eyes held a fire that threatened to consume everything in their path…including Elminster.

"I thought that ye were a Hellish organization." El said carefully, trying desperately not to offend. The goddess smiled, causing the golden spiral designs on her cheeks to stretch a bit.

"We're freelance actually. On loan to you-know-who, from you-know-where." She whispered conspiratorially from behind her hand. The golden teardrop on her forehead caught the warm light of El's fireplace and glistened metallically.

He didn't know "who", nor did he know "where", but didn't stop him from nodding sagely and smiling like he did. Half of his battles were won by pretending to know more than he did. Although, come to think of it, the other half of his troubles had come in the same manner….

He moved aside and motioned her inside.

"Am I to assume I am being audited?" He had heard of the rapacious tortures associated with such events, but never in his life had he expected to be a participant in one. Accountability for one's stewardships was one thing…an audit was something else entirely. Infernal torture? Divine torment? Both of those seemed to fit nicely to El's mind.

The goddess laughed. A sound that was surprisingly clear and pure.

"Don't be silly. We only audit fully the fully Ascended. Demi-gods, god-like mortals, and epic heroes are handled at another office. When you finally decide to ascend, then I'll pay you a personal visit." She patted his face softly, smiled at him coyly, and winked. A large crash from upstairs drew her attention to the other inhabitants of the tower. "I assume they're up there." El nodded as he unfolded the small white slip of paper.

"Mind the Rutger's Plant. They scared the bloody thing near to death, and he's been looking to reassure himself. Damn thing's useless now." El continued to mumble about watch plants and senseless uses of fire magic in the house.

"I'll be gentle." She purred.

El stared at her appreciatively for another long moment and then began reading the note in his hands. His tired eyes bugged and continued to grow the longer he read. He must be hallucinating. That was the only explanation that readily came to mind. His eyes shot up to the goddess.

"A bill! For just admiring the view?" El's head was swimming at the figures each new line brought. "By the second no less! Ye've got to be kidding me!" The Auditor grinned cattily and leaned against the wall, not hiding her amusement.

"Mister Elminster, I don't kid. I'm not in the charity business either." And with that she slunk up the stairs. She paused, winked at him again and blew him a kiss. "Make sure to read all of the fine print. Ignorance is not an excuse."

Elminster continued to read, skipping to the "Total Amount Due" on the bottom line. The amount of fine print that one could fit on a tiny 2" x 3" receipt was amazing. The wizard's eyes squinted, and then with a word and gesture, enlarged the sheet of paper with a spell and continued to read. The fact that there was still more fine print beneath the original fine print made his head light.

"Goddess of Magic preserve and protect me…Elminster ye old fool, what sheep dip have ye fallen into this time?"

He enlarged the paper again and moved to a lone table near the fireplace. His face blanched. Another spell enlarged the note again, making the paper roughly the size of good-sized door. Still more fine print revealed itself to the mage's eyes.

This was getting ridiculous.

"How in the world can ye expect a man to accomplish all of this?" Elminster protested. "And just who in the Nine Hells is this 'Saotome Ranma' anyway?" He glared at the door-sized note and then up the empty staircase. There was an audible "POP!" and a large golden folder materialized in the air before him.

El snatched the two-inch thick bundle out of the air and opened the folder carefully. The cover letter, while cordial was gruff and professional. He wanted to burn the whole thing after reading the introductory sentence.

"If ye choose to accept this mission…bah!"

He impatiently flipped through the paper work, scanning each page quickly until he came to the "meat and potatoes" so to speak. His eyes slowly closed upon reaching the biographical information and the images of target. A very uncharacteristic whimper escaped his lips.

Alrassa hadn't rescued him from Hell.

He was still there and this was some elaborate form of torture.

"Oh, and El-baby." Elminster looked up to the sultry goddess with resignation. "Be a dear and take care of the army marching on your tower. I really hate it when distractions disrupt the flow of things."

"Ease this blood price, and I'll send this whole bloody tower to the beach." El grumbled.

"The beach, huh?" She tapped her lips thoughtfully for a moment before pulling out one of her gold business cards. She produced a silver pen with a flourish of her wrist and scribbled something on the back. "Sorry, darling. No can do. However, I can offer you this instead." She kissed the card and tossed it to the wizard.

El read the card, re-read the card, and even produced a monstrous magnifying glass to read the really, really, really fine print. When he was satisfied that he understood everything well enough he looked up at her with a raised eyebrow and smiled.

"Deal."

El conjured his cloak and hat, summoned his staff and was out the door before the compact could be negated or more terms instituted. He was an intelligent being after all, and knew when a battle was lost. There was nothing cowardly about cutting your losses and retreating to save what little you had left. He still felt that he had gotten himself the shaft though.

Standing on the hill above his beloved Shadowdale, he could already see the mob darkening the horizon. The morons had to have marched hard from Sembia to reach Shadowdale this quickly. He snapped his fingers twice, uttered the spell trigger and watched in satisfaction as the tower disappeared. Another snap of his fingers conjured a ball of yellow light before Elminster.

"To Mourngrym, Lord of the Twisted Tower." El cleared his throat and tried to think of the quickest way to word the message. "Going on important trip. Won't be back for a good time. Storm is visiting Aglarond. Call on Khelban or Vangerdahast if ye need assistance. Elminster." He nodded sharply to himself and sent the small yellow light shooting towards its destination. Valor arrived then, leading two horses and three mules packed for travel. The third mule was laden with various casks and wineskins, much to El's pleasure.

"Ye are truly an amazing creature, lass." The gentle drow smiled serenely and bowed to her patron. Elminster fairly leapt into the saddle and motioned for her to do the same.

He still had the golden folder in hand when she had finally mounted her horse. With a great sigh he tucked the paperwork into the hidden confines of his cloak and spun his horse around to face Valor.

"Come, Valor. We've miracles to work and a wretched fool to protect." The drow's eyebrow rose drastically, but her face revealed no other emotion.

"Who are we protecting this fool from?" She asked. El frowned and knuckled his hawkish nose thoughtfully.

"Himself. Who else?" El spurred his mount toward the Ruins of Myth Drannor, ignoring the mob of people that had finally entered Shadowdale proper. As the pair left, night again turned into a bright and shiny, perfectly tempered day, leaving the army of angry men and women at a loss for their righteous cause.

The world hadn't ended after all.

This of course made the group feel terribly embarrassed and more than a little confused. They needed something to help them save face and justify coming all this way. A call went up for the heads of the wizards that had duped them. It was seconded, and ratified by a third. The small army turned and began marching back the way that they had come, thus ensuring the mob intelligence quotient for a little while longer.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Tower of Elminster (what was left of it)**

A desert isle far, far away

"Shar, Shar, Shar." Kinhon'i clucked her tongue and gave the Dark Goddess a pitying look that held absolutely no pity in it what-so-ever. The Mistress of the Night wept, as yet another of her deductions was set-aside in the "Nice-Try" Pile.

Mystra laughed nervously as she gathered her records and hoped that her predecessor had kept a good accounting. Neither goddess had ever, in all their long memories, experienced the unique pain associated with an Audit of Accountability. Ao had always held them liable as a group. This new personal method was both disconcerting and humbling. Both prayed that it was not a portent of things to come.

Shar pursed her lips, ground her teeth and waited patiently for that upstart Mystra to get hers. She winced as another deduction was gently laid in the "Points-for-Creativity" pile.

"You've really got a good imagination." The golden skinned goddess remarked with a smile. Yet another deduction fell by the wayside – this time to the dreaded "You've-got-to-be-kidding" pile. Shar stewed and grumbled.

She was the "Lady of Loss", true…but this was absurd!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Somewhere in the North beneath the plains of Huigun,**

Between Triboar and Yartar

Run. That was the only thing that Usagi had on her mind at the moment.

Run.

Run hard. Run fast.

Don't look back that the screaming horde of…things chasing her. Don't concern yourself with all of the rough bladed weapons that they were waving, nor the crude, yelping promises of death and defilement that, for some strange reason that escaped her, Usagi could clearly understand. And while she was at it…

"There is no spoon! There is no spoon!"

She looked back and whimpered at the sight of the large shadow leading the group of tiny yapping, two legged, Chihuahua demons.

"I DISBELIEVE ALREADY!" She screamed.

Another hopeful glance made it clear that someone didn't believe that she didn't believe. Usagi allowed herself a moment of peace before allowing the panic to take her once again.

If she could outdistance them, she would be safe.

"Safe." The word held little meaning for her after the horror of the long dark of these tunnels. The beady, glowing yellow eyes seemed to stare at her from every black corner, spurring her on to new land speed records.

Poor Mister Horse could barely keep up with her.

Ulin was screaming again, but Usagi couldn't tell whether it was from pain from the break in her leg, or from the way that the arrows kept narrowly missing her bouncing litter. Either way, Usagi was getting a little miffed that the woman kept distracting her from her terror. Couldn't she see that they were out pacing the mob of drooling, blood thirsty lizard…doggy…things! See! They were already giving up! All she needed to do was run a little faster, push a little harder, and they would leave them in the dust!

"Will you stop WHINING!" Usagi yelled back at the woman. "I'M DOING THE BEST THAT I CAN, DARNIT!"

"Kill…you!" Ulin panted as yet another arrow glanced off the shield Usagi had picked up for her. "Boil…your…bo…bo…bo…BONES!" Ulin's hoarse voice bounced along with the makeshift litter as they passed over more uneven ground.

The litter had, by some miracle, held together for the whole twenty minutes that they had been running from their pursuers. Usagi was rather proud of that, since she had never really learned how to tie knots. So, she continued to pour on the speed – neither thinking, nor caring about the consequences of her actions.

Unfortunately, all good things come to an end. Winning streaks falter. Good luck runs out. The pendulum swings the other way. In Usagi's case, Fate threw her a junk hand when what she really needed was a Royal straight flush.

She took a sharp corner at break neck speed. Mister Horse blindly followed. Ulin however, had no control over her mode of transportation. There was a sickening "CRACK!" that reverberated over the noise of the horse's clattering hooves. Usagi looked back in time to see her injured friend do a tight flip and smash bodily into the wall. Had she been paying attention to Mister Horse, she might have avoided the same fate. Sadly, as many of Usagi's teachers were known to comment, the blonde haired girl wasn't all that attentive.

The lesson of inertia versus immoveable objects was rudely pounded home as Usagi slammed into the stony dead end full tilt and bounced off. Ulin followed her example by careening off the opposing wall. She spun in a mind-numbing circle across the twenty-foot wide tunnel, bounced off the original wall with a pain-filled scream, and came to a rough halt not three feet from Mister Horse.

Usagi blinked from her position on her back and looked up at the ceiling. White, black green, and pink spots danced in her eyes. It took her a moment to fully comprehend that her body had ceased its forward momentum and another to realize that the sounds of her pursuers were getting louder and more…energetic.

"CRAP!"

She leapt to her feet and looked for Ulin. The green skinned woman was writhing in a tiny little ball about three feet away and whimpering. Usagi wanted to check on her friend, but the yipping was getting louder every second. The displaced moon princess scrambled for the shield that Ulin had dropped and slid it over her arm. Once she had some protection, Usagi knelt beside her friend and gave her a cursory examination in the low light of the torches that hung on the far end of the tunnel.

"Touch me…and I swear…so help me…" Usagi wasn't sure how one could pant and growl while making the ground tremble, but Ulin was doing a fair job of it. "Even the Fires of Avernus will be a welcome relief to you!"

There was something in the way that the words rushed from Ulin's throat that gave Usagi pause. When Rei was particularly upset with her, the shrine maiden's speech tended to become more…rapid. This was never a good sign, so Usagi tried her best to diffuse Ulin's anger as best she could.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Ulin growled and tried to keep from biting clean through her tongue as another wave of pain washed over her. Usagi started to ask what she could do to help when an arrow blasted half way through her shield. She squeaked and tried her best not to faint at the sight of the pointy…very pointy arrow that had nearly pierced her head. After a moment of fear she peeked around the edge of the wooden disk, grit her teeth, and fingered her broach.

The tunnel, twenty feet away from her current position, was filled with drooling monsters, the largest of which would have towered over Mamoru by about a foot or more. Some were licking their swords and others were shifting eagerly from foot to foot in anticipation of the blood letting.

She wasn't certain why they were holding back. But the way that the large one was eyeing Usagi, made her want to bathe. She had endured openly lecherous gazes before, but never from something so…inhuman. It sent a shiver down her spine just thinking about it.

She looked down at Ulin sadly and smiled. She didn't know how she was going to get them out of this, but she knew that she couldn't just give in. She'd faced too many battles for that to be an option.

"Close your eyes." She whispered.

"What…what are you going to do?" Ulin growled.

Usagi didn't answer. A deep calm had come over her. That peaceful zen state of oneness that always came to her when faced with certain doom. She took a deep breath and stood protectively over her injured friend.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to leave us in peace, would you?" The guttural laughter from the monsters made her purse her lips and nod. She could already feel the power building in the broach…yearning to be released. The largest of the beast-men pointed at her and barked a command, sending six of the little dogmen racing forward.

The words were already spilling from her mouth before they had taken their first steps.

"MOON ETERNAL MAKE UP!"

A pure white light flared in the dimness of the tunnel, causing the beasts to scream in pain. Arrows blindly shot forward, but were repelled by the ambient magics that blanketed Usagi's body. When her transformation was complete, Sailor Moon stood before the group of cowering monsters boldly.

"Terrifying those who've lost their…HEY!" She started to make her customary speech, when the largest of the group charged her, intent on smashing her flat with a massive steel club. Sailor Moon reacted reflexively.

"Moon Spiral Heart ATTACK!"

By the time the hairy brute had covered the distance, Sailor Moon's attack had formed. The massive pink heart exploded outwards from her, taking the large beast and most of its minions with it. The attack didn't seem satisfied with the few paltry opponents that it had consumed, and so it continued on – passing through the wall opposite Sailor Moon. And the room that lay behind that wall, and the one after that, and the one after that….

The blonde haired champion of justice lost count after the twenty-fourth crash, due to Ulin groaning at her feet. The remaining monsters, all three of them, looked at Sailor Moon and screamed before running in the opposite direction that they had come.

"You've got…to be joking." Ulin grit her teeth against the pain in her leg and glared at Usagi. There was death in those eyes…a loooong death. Sadly, Usagi missed all the signs.

"What?" Usagi looked at her handy work and smiled triumphantly.

"What in the holy name of Herubru was that?"

Usagi blinked at Ulin in open confusion.

"It was my Moon Spiral Heart Attack."

"That was the biggest damn waste of energy I've ever seen! Haven't you ever heard of OVERKILL!" Ulin screamed.

"But…but it worked…." Usagi's hurt expression was lost on Ulin.

"No damn finesse! Just like every other spell-jockey with a fireball!"

"You don't have to be so mean."

"YES I DO! With that much power, you could have taken out a small army! If I live through this nightmare you're getting training! Even if I don't live! Starting tomorrow, dead or alive, you're going to learn real magic!"

"But!"

"No 'BUTS'! The sooner you learn real control, will mean longer life spans for all of us innocent bystanders." Usagi's bottom lip trembled and tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

"Moon Spiral Heart Attack…by Mystra's Mantle! I think I'm going to be sick!" Ulin grumbled and tried to ignore the migraine that was pounding behind her eyes. She could feel the fever coming back too, and they only had one more healing draught left. Gods! What a mess!

The only problem, in Ulin's mind, was that the torment seemed endless, especially judging from the rather…unique looking…pink…wand in Usagi's hand.

"What…is…that?" It was impossible to keep the revulsion and disgust from her voice.

It had to be the gaudiest thing she had ever seen! The pink shaft was adorned with knuckle-sized diamonds and capped with an ornately cut ruby set in gold. The "hilt", if one could be so bold as to call it that, was made from some red metal and had finger guards that curved out to form a giant red heart. The little pink wing hand guards were the crowning ornament though.

"I _am_ going to be sick."

"What?" Usagi looked at the Kaleid Moon Scope with a pouting little frown. "It's pretty!" Usagi said in her defense.

"It's pretty stupid!"

"Is not!"

"It's asinine!"

"You take that back!"

"No!"

"Take it back!"

"Make me, you…you blonde haired, bubble-headed, menace!"

"Watermelon Butt!"

"Boobless TWIT!"

They argued for another twenty minutes, with the volumes steadily rising with each volley of slanders. Usagi was doing surprisingly well, slinging new and extremely colorful taunts at the green skinned woman. Ulin however clearly remained the victor. Which stood to reason. She had well over a hundred years on her opponent, not to mention having spent a good deal of time on Krynn with a pair of Kender. Not by choice mind you…

No. Never by choice.

Still she had come out of her penance with a battery of valuable skills that had served her on a number of occasions. She was a mistress of filching and could sling mud like no one's business. Poor Usagi never stood a chance.

"Nerf herder!"

"Larder bottom!"

"Rhino hips!"

"Soup Jenny!" Usagi blinked and looked at Ulin puzzled.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"If I have to explain it, then I win." Ulin grimaced and massaged her temples.

Usagi was about to really lay into the Genasi, when she heard something shuffle behind her. Fearing another assault she whirled on the sound and began building power for another attack. The sight that greeted her made her gasp and drop the Kaleid Moon Scope completely.

Children from the approximate ages of six to somewhere around fourteen were huddled in a large group at the mouth of the hole that Usagi's attack had made. Their pale, malnourished faces were dirty and bruised and their lightless eyes were sunken and hollow from lack of sleep. They wore rags that were little better than potato sacks over bruised and scarred skin.

Even Ulin was humbled to silence by the sight.

At the front of the group was a tall, stoic boy with dark hair that reminded Usagi of Mamoru. He was gaunt and carried a bloody hand axe that must have seen recent use. He couldn't have been older than thirteen, causing Usagi to immediately think of her brother Shingo and then surprisingly of Hotaru.

His eyes held the same resignation and determination that Usagi had seen in the Senshi of Saturn's eyes. He had the power to kill and hated it, but he shouldered the burden so that no one else had to. The rest of the children huddled timidly behind him while trying to sneak a peek through his legs and arms.

"What's your name, boy?" Ulin did her best to keep her voice even, while shifting herself to get a better look at the group. She didn't want to know what her throbbing leg looked like, but she could easily tell that it had broken in yet another place. The hasty, inadequate brace that she and Usagi had set her leg with was broken and useless now. From the wet feeling that was pooling beneath her, the Genasi could tell that either a bone had broken through the skin, or the dirty stick had punctured her leg.

"Viet Lackman." He said gruffly.

"That's Iluskan, isn't it?" Ulin could hardly see his head bob in the low torch light of the cavern for the haze the pain was casting over her eyes. "You have any kin in these tunnels?"

"No." He hesitated for a moment, and then looked back at the other children. "No, m'am, but some of these others do."

"Are you going to try and free them?" Ulin gritted. The pain was getting to be intense.

"They sent us away." A quiet girl, maybe fourteen years old stepped forward. Her hair could have been blonde or auburn once, but the dirt and grime had stolen its beauty. "Most of them were sick, and another cell had been blocked by the collapse in the tunnel." Usagi gasped and covered her mouth.

"Ulin! We can't leave them to die!"

"Shut up, Usagi." Ulin closed her eyes and started massaging her temples.

"But Ulin!"

"I'm not leaving anyone down here to die at the hands of kobolds and Bugbears, Usagi! Now shut up and let me think!" The sorceress sighed and tried to find a path through the agony. It was making it impossible to concentrate.

This was her element damnit! Had she been whole, the earth would have danced for her. It would have crooned its secrets to her like a long time lover. But she wasn't whole, so she would have to make due with what she had available to her.

"You there, girl. What's your name?"

"Shandri Dunhill, Mistress." Ulin nodded.

"Do you know the way back to the cells?" Shandri hesitantly nodded. "Good. You're going to be Usagi's guide." Both girls blinked and tried hard to swallow their fear. "The rest of us are going back two tunnels. We passed a large room that should be more defensible than this."

"I should go." Viet stepped forward in front of Shandri protectively causing Ulin to glare at him. Her hard eyes made him flinch.

"No. You shouldn't." She said flatly. Her black eyes seemed to absorb the light of the torches, without reflecting their light. Viet stood his ground, but looked unsure of himself. Stupid posturing boy! "If I'm lucky, I'm going to be unconscious in under an hour and you are going to be our only real means of defense. Not stop posturing for the women folk and start gathering what weapons you can. Daggers, short swords, shields…anything that will be useful to those responsible enough to hold a weapon."

Viet stepped aside and started to do as he was told, leaving the children with only Shandri and one other wide-eyed girl to act as their cover. Usagi immediately fell to one knee, dismissing her enchantments and opened her arms wide to the younger children.

Warmth and light seemed to fill the cavern at her gentle, welcoming smile. She beckoned to them and whispered quiet encouragements to one little boy who had chanced a smile at her. One by one the younger children began running to her, and she buried them in her love. Shandri looked longingly at Usagi, yearning for the comfort that she was giving so freely to the others.

"Enough, Usagi." Ulin bit back a grimace. "There will be time…for that…later."

Usagi finally took a good look at her friend and gasped at the state of the wound. The brace had pushed completely through the skin and Ulin was openly bleeding now. Usagi rushed to her friend's side and hovered there helplessly under the baleful glare Ulin was giving her.

"Ulin! Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?"

"What exactly could you have done about it any way?" She growled. Usagi flinched back and bit her lip angrily. Defiance welled up in her heart.

"Something's better than nothing! You're going to bleed to death!"

"You've other things to concern yourself with. Let it go."

"No. I will not!" She knelt beside the litter and tenderly examined the leg.

"DAMNIT! Don't touch me!" Ulin grouched.

"We need to do something about this." Usagi protested stubbornly.

"Idiot! The leg has to be set before it can be healed. Removing the stick will make me bleed like a stuck pig and I still need to cast at least one spell on the door to make it secure. All that can't possibly happen right now."

"Fine, we go to the room, and at least bandage your leg. Then I'll go after the parents." Ulin started to respond when Usagi covered her mouth with one hand.

"Viet." The young man paused in his scrounging long enough to look up at Usagi. "That should be enough for now. Come and help Shandri lead Mister Horse."

He looked at the horse questioningly, and shook his head. He slid one more dagger into his oversized boot, before taking the horse's lead. Shandri scouted a few paces ahead while Usagi gathered Ulin into her arms and shepherded the rest of the children to bring up the rear. Ulin was growling and glaring at her the entire way to the room.

They tethered Mister Horse to a large crate with iron rings on the sides, and Shandri searched until she found a small barrel of stale water for the exhausted horse. Usagi and Viet moved Ulin as gently as they could into a corner of the room with a clear view of the door, per the sorceress' brisk instructions. They had to lay her on her side due to the way the brace had pierced her leg, which made the sorceress swoon. It was by shear force of will and stubborn determination that she remained conscious at all.

Usagi sighed and quickly gathered two of her white shirts from Mister Horse's saddlebags and then returned to her friend's side. She handed one to Viet and motioned for the boy to tear them into even strips.

"Okay…you're…going to have…to leave quickly. I've got to cast the spell." Ulin panted. She looked terribly pale to Usagi.

"Shut up, Ulin." Usagi said with a smile. She motioned for Shandri to join them and unbuckled and removed Ulin's shoulder sheath, laying the dagger aside.

"What…are you doing, Usagi?" She growled. Tears were rolling down her jade colored cheeks.

"Shut up, Ulin."

"Viet can do this!"

Without preamble, Usagi placed a length of the leather sheath belt into Ulin's mouth. "Bite down. I'm sure this is going to hurt." Ulin mumbled something panicked around the strap, but Usagi ignored her and motioned for Viet and Shandri to gently lift the injured leg.

"Have you ever done this before?" She asked. Viet nodded grimly. Well, he had at least seen it done once. Shandri shook her head. "Good. I'll pass the wraps off to you. Make sure that they're not too tight." She remembered that much of Ami's lessons. Cutting off the circulation completely would eventually cost Ulin her leg.

Ulin braced herself as best she could as the children lifted her leg, but it wasn't enough. She screamed through clenched teeth against the white-hot pain as the bone was fumbled and jostled. It was a clumsy thing, but she didn't have the strength to curse anyone for their stupidity. The last thing that she saw was Usagi's glowing forehead above her. A golden crescent shimmered with such power…a power that blanketed her in warmth and peace.

And then the heavy darkness claimed her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Moon Wood**

Ethalliandra Brestalda danced through the Moon Grove singing the praises of Selune. She and a few of her cousins had embraced the Moonmaiden as their patron after the Time of Troubles, and their reverence only grew at the miracles and favor that had been bestowed up their small community.

"Life waxes and wanes beneath the leaves, yet love holds true."

Ethalliandra spun and looped a diaphanous streamer of white silk around her partner. To look at him, one would call him monstrous. Being a were-bear was unnerving to the uneducated, but to those select few in the grove the only thing monstrous about Ked Moonson was his capacity to love.

"Turn to the Moon, for she is your guide."

Ked allowed the silk scarf to lead him in the path that Ethalliandra dictated. His towering form loomed over the small Moon Elf, but lacked the clumsiness that one of his stature would normally move with. They moved and swayed in time with each other to the sounds of a wordless chorus sung by their fellow Selunites. The crescent moon above their heads seemed to cut the unnatural night with its soft light, creating long shadows in the Moon Grove. The power of the ceremony was soft yet salient, clinging to each member in the grove like a warm blanket. It was hardly expected that a third personage would join the dance.

The tall, blue-haired woman topped even Ked's height by half a head or more. Her grace and perfection made the couple performing the rite look clumsy and childish in comparison. White wings sprouted from her naked back, framing her emerald skin majestically. The power of her holy presence inspired the Selunites to greater fervor in their song and dance. The honor of having a Planetar appear in their midst was intoxicating. Sheildmeet had long since passed and the Conjuring of the Second Moon had already been held which only made this visitation all the more meaningful and sacred to those in attendance.

The dance ebbed and flowed like the tide, until at last the revelers fell silent and still. Ethalliandra and Ked were bathed in sweat and fatigue as they looked up into the glowing yellow eyes of the Planetar in awe and wonder. Every head bowed in reverence and began to immediately offer up their thanks to the Moonmaiden.

_Greetings, Children of The Moon._ The mental voice of the angelic woman was melodious and immediately soothed the minds of everyone gathered. _The blessings of Selune are upon you all. Hearken to the will of thy Goddess and know her love._

The celestial servant gestured in a wide graceful arc, causing the ghostly rays of the moon to bend and shift delicately throughout the grove. The light rapidly wove itself into the shape of a dark haired man with his hair braided in a short tail. He was handsome as humans went, but Ethalliandra was most captivated by the trio of tattoos that were branded on his chest: one for Selune, one for Mystra, and one for the hated Shar.

_See ye this man, favored of Selune, and take heed._

The Planetar waved her hand again and the man's form shifted, becoming smaller and more feminine. Ked's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the red haired woman as she shifted back and forth between male and female forms. Wonder and intrigue whipped through the small group as the female shifted from human to elf and back again. More than one mind speculated whether the personage before them was a doppleganger.

_Shapeless, formless, a force for Change._ _This one will mark you and make you his own. You will call her mother and father, and he will strip away your dross and forge you into my Lady's spears and swords against the Night._

"Pray tell, oh Bright One, where shall we find this being?" Ethalliandra bowed her head low to the ground. The celestial being smiled benignly as she faded away, leaving the ghostly image of the constantly changing personage, dancing its own dance, in the center of the grove.

_Turn to the Moon, for she is your true guide._

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Somewhere in the North beneath the plains of Huigun,**

Between Triboar and Yartar

Shandri chanced a glance at Usagi as they walked through the tunnel. It had been a harrowing experience for the young woman to have her hands bathed in that much blood, but she admired Mistress Usagi's stern faced determination.

The woman had even cast some incredibly powerful magic back in the storeroom, healing everyone of their fatigue and most noticeably their hunger. Mistress Usagi, now clad in something that could have easily been mistaken for a shift, had seemed surprised that her friend's wounds hadn't been healed completely. It left her somewhat reserved and quiet as they had ventured back into the oddly heart shaped tunnel that her magic had created.

While Mistress Usagi wasn't completely satisfied with the results of her magic, Shandri felt better than she had in weeks and Viet didn't look like a gaunt zombie any more. The young girl had only been here for less than a year, but poor Viet had been under the lash for well over three. She had no idea how he had survived that long, but he had helped her and all of the other children, when they had been torn from their parents' arms. She owed him, and they in turn owed Mistress Usagi.

It was strange though. The nervous girl walking beside her jumped at shadows and seemed very at odds with the confident woman that had eased their wounds and washed away their fatigue. If anything, Mistress Usagi was acting more like Shandri felt – terrified.

Still, her bravery aside, Shandri was glad that Mistress Usagi had come. They hadn't encountered anything yet, but having the blonde woman along was better than doing this alone.

"How much further?" Usagi asked.

"Just through there." Shandri raised her torch and pointed to a heavy, shoddy looking door. It was hard not to smile as her companion visibly sighed with relief. She scanned the tunnel up and down cautiously before turning her attention back to the door. Shandri caught her meaning and kept a look out.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Usagi gulped and shook her head. She'd read the books. She'd played the video games. She'd watched the anime. Heck, she'd even let Umino talk her into role-playing with him back in seventh grade. None of that had prepared her to live out the fantasy. She shivered as she contemplated the door.

There was no lock to contend with and after careful scrutiny, she was fairly sure that there weren't any traps. Usagi carefully and quietly eased open the door, ready to jump back at the slightest sign of movement. She heaved yet another sigh when nothing bad happened. She gave Shandri a "thumbs up" and an infectious grin before turning back to the room. Nothing but darkness met her eyes as she tentatively stepped through the portal.

Her only warning was a shuffle and a grunt.

Instinctively she threw herself forward into the room, tumbling with a scream as a huge stone club barely missed taking her head off. She rolled to her feet and continued to move, bouncing and ducking around each swing, refusing to halt long enough for the monstrous blows to connect. She could feel the weight of the wicked weapon as it cut through the air. It gave Usagi hope that its wielder would soon tire of swinging it with such force.

Her hopes died after a full five minutes of bobbing and weaving, with no signs of respite.

The fact that she was still alive, in spite of the almost lightless conditions amazed her. Rather than jinx herself though, she focused on continuing to dodge the blows as they came. Each impact the club made, shattered stone and rocked the floor around her, leaving little guesswork as to the monster's strength. She evaded another swipe at her torso by tripping over a small rock, only to hear her doom falling towards her in the form of loose boulders and rocks.

Usagi scrambled to her feet quickly, barely escaping a messy end, and led the beast back towards the door that she had entered. The dim light from Shandri's torch, was giving her a sense of what she was up against. Big, hairy, and very ugly.

The familiar form of the monster leader from before flashed in an out of the ambient light. It was bloody, and from the brief glimpses that she had caught, blind in one eye. She had to somehow use his blindness to her advantage or she was going to end up smeared across a wall.

She tensed and dove to the right, into his blind spot, as it swung wildly and kicked it in the side of the knee with enough force to break its leg. The crack would have made her throw up if her blood hadn't been pounding so loudly in her ears. The beast howled and fell to the ground meatily.

Usagi grinned and called upon the cantrip that Ulin had taught her on their second day in the caves. She scooped up a stone from where she knelt and whispered the incantation.

"Hesseth!" Light bathed the area immediately around the stone, causing the monster to hiss and shield its good eye from the sudden brightness. Usagi gasped at the walking carnage that the creature had become. It was covered in blood from a number of lacerations, both large and small, and its head was quite mangled. The entire right side of its face had been crushed in fact. It was a gruesome sight to behold.

She had been correct that this was the leader of the band, but he looked as if he was on his last leg. Considering that she had broken the other, made her grin. It growled at her as it staggered and fell to the floor. The beast struggled to recover its bearings.

"Knew you's come back fer the meats. Goruch knews." It grinned nastily, causing only one side of his mutilated face to pull and stretch, while the other simply hung loosely. "Gunna suck you's bones girly girl. Suck'em dry!" Usagi paid no heed to his words. Instead she stood tall and proud.

"Children are meant to run free, to enjoy the innocence of life while they may." Usagi growled. Her confidence grew as the monster tried to pull itself up, using its club as a crutch. "For love and justice, I am the pretty sailor-suited soldier Sailor Moon! In the name of the moon, I will punish you!"

Had she been quicker with her speech, she might have avoided the attack. Had she not given the speech at all, the monster's stone club wouldn't have been thrown. If she had just blasted the darn thing when she had the chance, the stone club wouldn't have smashed into her face and knocked her through a weakened stonewall.

On the other hand, if she hadn't been knocked through the wall, then the people that had been suffocating on the other side would have certainly died. It was all a matter of perspective…not that she was contemplating such things at the moment. No, she was too busy rolling with the impact and cursing her need to give rousing oratories before commencing with the smack down.

Stupid bad habits were going to get her killed someday.

Rocks fell over her, attempting to bury her, but her strength won out. She shifted the rubble, rolling boulders and slabs away from her groggily. The path was clear, but the prisoners were in no shape to escape to freedom yet. Not that Usagi noted any of this as she pulled herself from the rocks. Her only concern at that moment was counting the number of stars that clouded her eyes.

Her head was still ringing as she tried to work her way through the pros and cons of the friggin' speech making. They were certainly inspiring…to her at least. But more and more they were making her life really difficult. Change sucked. Mean monsters with no appreciation for the dramatic sucked worse.

"Everybody's a criti…erk!" A great and terribly smelly hand palmed her face, and Usagi knew that she had yet again made another big mistake.

In one swift movement, Usagi felt herself lifted from her feet and slammed brutally into the unforgiving stone floor. Her uniform's magic absorbed most of the abuse, but her head was ringing life a fire bell. She braced herself for the second and third blows, and on the fourth she tucked her feet tightly against her chest, twisted her body slightly, and kicked with everything that she had.

Claws raked down her face as the monster sought to maintain its hold on her. She could feel the sting of the cuts and the trickle of blood, but in light of her frustration they were ignored. The monster squealed like a pig as it rocketed away from her. It impacted heavily on something metallic that was just out of the range of her light stone. She picked up another rock and rotated her arm to loosen its muscles.

"Stupid monsters have no appreciation for a fine lady!" Usagi mumbled. Her anger was really starting to build and along with it a small wind that was centered solely on her. Her speech sped up and became increasingly agitated.

"I'm sick to death of being chased by dragons and having to wipe my butt with leaves! Do you have any idea how much it chafes? Not to mention the blisters! And then you've got to be stupid and start chasing me too you scared me and made Ulin angry with me not that it was my fault that she broke her leg, after all I wasn't the one that opened the whole in the middle of the ground now was I? Now I'm here fighting a big smelly monster with no consideration for child labor laws in a dark smelly cave that I can barely see in. I'm dirty my hair's a mess and I'm starting to get cramps!"

"Hesseth!" Another light flared to life in the palm of Usagi's hand. She paused a moment and ground her teeth. "Stupid monsters! Stupid Ulin! Where the hell am I supposed to find a tampon in a dark smelly cave?"

Usagi tossed the light in the direction the monster had flown. The stone bounced twice, causing the shadows to dance crazily, before settling into a spinning skid that ended abruptly. The light stone had wedged itself between hard flat rock and something soft, shedding its light outward in a wide cone.

The sight that greeted Usagi's naive eyes made her knees weak and her empty stomach heave. Blood and gore soaked the walls. A metal prison, its bars bent oddly from where the beast had hit, looked more like a slaughter house from some splatter movie.

Human bodies were everywhere.

No. Not bodies. Pieces of bodies.

Adult bodies…

Infant bodies….

She had no words. Nothing could break through the grotesque imagery that confronted her. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to scream. Dear sweet heaven above, she wanted to run! But her body rebelled against all of her wishes and remained where it was. Some part of her mind noted the monster was pulling itself to its feet. She watched numbly as it tore a loose bar free from the cell and began its advance towards her.

It grinned wickedly. Triumphantly.

She narrowed her eyes at the creature hatefully. It was wrong. It hadn't won. Not in the least. It would pay for its crimes. It would pay for the children and for the poor souls that it had mutilated.

Usagi screamed and pointed her hands upward towards the creature's chest. Primal power flooded through her and burned her arms on its way to freedom. The monster, the bloody cell, and everything for over one thousand yards slanting upward, simply ceased to exist. Sunlight and fresh air filtered down the gradually slanted shaft that she had made.

Something at the back of her mind told her that they could escape this way. She didn't listen to it though. All she could see were the lifeless faces that she had failed to save…lifeless faces and the blood…the rivers of blood.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Shandri huddled against the door jam. She clutched her eyes tightly shut as Mistress Usagi screamed. The pain and the anger in that cry was backed by a bright light and a rushing of wind, and then silence. Shandri held her breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. She didn't want to look into the room. She didn't want to see the beautiful golden haired woman lying in a pool of blood at Goruch's feet.

She clutched the dagger she had taken from Viet desperately and offered up a hasty prayer to Tyr the Keeper of Justice, Tempus Lord of Battles, and Kelemvor King of the Dead. If she was going to confront Goruch, even in his weakened state, she was going to need all the help she could get.

In this life and the next.

It took her several minutes to gather the strength and courage to glance around the doorframe. The sight that greeted her left her feeling weak with joy and horror. The look of shock on Usagi's face and the great gaping hole rising skyward told Shandri all she needed to know about the fate of her family. The little girl from the small hamlet of Goldwell felt the tears building, but pushed them down in order to check on the wounded warrior before her. Usagi knelt, weeping in a ray of sunlight and muttering to herself.

"…he killed them all…chopped them into little pieces…" Shandri grimaced and chocked back a sob. "That's not supposed to happen…they're supposed to be alive…"

Her voice was so matter of fact that Shandri fell onto her knees and hugged Mistress Usagi, murmuring what she hoped were comforting words in the woman's ear.

"…I was supposed to save them!" Shandri could hear the hysteria creeping into Usagi's voice and started to get worried. The girl yelped when Usagi gripped her by the upper arms and pulled her around to face her. As much as Shandri was suffering, Usagi looked to be suffering a thousand times worse. "THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD ALREADY!"

Shandri found herself being shaken bodily as Usagi continued to repeat the words over and over.

"THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD ALREADY! THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! THEY WEREN'T SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD!"

"I KNOW!" Shandri screamed, causing Usagi to stop shaking her. The blonde haired woman blinked owlishly at the girl, not really seeing her. Shandri was unnerved by the vacuous look in the woman's eyes. "It's not your fault, Mistress Usagi. You couldn't have known."

"I can fix this." Shivers danced up and down Shandri's arms at the whispered words.

"No, Mistress. You can't. They've gone to Kelemvor's Rest."

"NO!" Usagi screamed and stood abruptly, dropping Shandri to the floor. "I will fix this! They're not supposed to be dead! I'm Sailor Moon! I'm Serenity, the Princess of the Moon! I have the Guinzuisho! I will bring them back!"

Shandri looked up at Usagi fearfully. Behind the Sorceress, she could see old Todd and Miri helping Master Hennley over a boulder. Heb and Falrinn were behind that trio, supporting Master Garl Blackhammer.

The tough as nails dwarf was limping and bleeding from a nasty cut on his upper arm. She could see more people gathered behind them, but couldn't bring herself to care. All that she saw before her was a bruised and bleeding Lady, weeping for the lives that she could not save. Shandri stood and moved forward and gently wrapped her arms around Usagi's shoulders. The woman stared into Shandri's eyes.

"I will bring them back to you."

The compassion in her voice was at odds with the feverish determination in the Lady's eyes. Usagi made Shandri step back and closed her eyes. She reached out in front of her, as if to grasp something, and the broach on her chest began to glow with a silvery light. The indecent uniform that had adorned her shapely body melted into an incredible gown of spun silver that shimmered beautifully.

Power, the likes of which Shandri had never felt before, cascaded off the woman, kicking up a fierce wind. The broach vanished in a flash of light and was replaced by a silver crystal the size of a man's heart. It floated serenely into the hollow of the Lady's hands and hovered there, pulsing with life. Usagi brought her hands high above her head and the loose stones about the room trembled and danced in time with the crystal's pulsing rhythm. The light flared forcing everyone to shield their eyes. When it faded, Usagi was no longer standing where she had been. In her place a shaft of silvery light stretched heaven ward.

Shandri hesitantly moved into the column and looked up.

High above her, hovering in the cradle of the clouds a silver star flared, once more bathing the countryside in a soft loving glow.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Klauth, the Dread of the North, lay crippled and dying against the mountainside. He had been victorious and his enemies lay bloody and broken beneath his talons. The battle had been epic and raged the full length and breadth of the North. It would be a battle that would live on in the hearts and minds of men, elves, and dwarves for the rest of time. It was truly a worthy end for a dragon such as Klauth.

Sadly, Klauth didn't want to die yet. There was more to see and more to experience. He had long ago pondered the benefits of lichdom, but had never gotten around to approaching the Cult of the Dragon. The last emissaries that they had sent, some sixty years back, had gone the way of most interlopers – down his gullet. He was regretting that decision now. He wheezed helplessly and opened his remaining eye to glance around him one last time.

The majesty of the land about him stirred his heart. The fragility of the flowers and the trees was keenly juxtaposed against the strength and endurance of the mountains at his back. The world seemed all at once new to him, and the magic of that moment filled him with such sorrow.

Regret filled him at the destruction he had caused. The novelty of such an emotion stirring in his black heart made him chuckle. But the dragon's laughter soon faded into a fit of hissing, bloody coughs.

Oh to repent his follies!

What were the machinations of dragons and men, when compared to the wonder of life itself? Perhaps there was something to the drivel peddled by philosophers. Perhaps there was a greater meaning to life. Klauth sighed and began counting his breaths.

Better that, than reflecting on the legacy he would be leaving behind. There were stories of his might and ferocity. There were tales of his cunning and trickery. People even spoke with wonder about his compassion….

The dragon's thoughts lingered on that word for a time, letting it roll around in his mind. As he pondered the concept, he felt a power building near him. The purity astounded him, as did the frantic despair that drove it to build. The ground trembled enough to make him crack his good eye again in time to see a silvery star rising from the depths of the earth. Its light flared and for the first time in all his long life Klauth, the Dragon of the North, felt love and peace.

"Come back to us." The woman's voice was soft like the finest velvet as it echoed over the countryside. "Come home mothers and fathers, sons and daughters. Our hearts cannot abide the day without you at our sides."

Power flowed over Klauth knitting his wounds and binding his flesh. Energy filled his soul and brought him back from death's door. Not all of his hurts vanished. In fact, for the greater part, he was still in danger of fading away. But it was enough to empower Klauth with hope.

Hope.

He'd never thought to feel such a powerful emotion. As his aching, tattered wings caught the wind, Klauth looked back on the shining star hovering above the Plains of Huigun. His good eye pierced the corona of magic that hid the heart of this benevolent star, and left Klauth breathless. Such beauty he had never seen. Such unconditional love he had never known. Tears of joy snaked their way from his good eye, and something in the dragon's heart fluttered.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Thus the world bore witness to the birth of the Silver Princess. And with her coming the earth blossomed with the sounds of rejoicing. Her every step brought renewal, and the dead returned at her call.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**End chapter 5**_


	6. Chapter 6

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer: **

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters, places, and other creative wonders belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Foreword**:

Your patience is greatly appreciated. I don't know if any of you are actually interested in what's going on in the background, but for what it's worth here's a brief rundown of why this chapter has taken so long.

As is the case with many Fic authors, life has a rude tendency of invading the creation of fantasy. The status of my writing has been a bit on the erratic side, but not forsaken by any means. There have been so many things happening lately, that it's been hard to keep up. One of the greatest events has been the formation of Brier Row Studios – an online publishing house for new talent. I've decided to go pro and hopefully inspire some of my friends in the Fanfic community to do the same. My first project is in the works right now, and hopefully will see the light of day sometime next year.

As for Progeny, Realms, and Splitting Heirs each of the current chapters have suffered through a number of re-writes and numerous not-so-cosmetic changes. The end result will hopefully be something pivotal and entertaining for you the readers. I am attempting to organize things so that I can get you all something on a more regular basis. The current delay is just too much, even for me. At any rate, I thank you again for sticking with me!

As always, C&C is appreciated. Flames are generally mocked with great relish. Here's hoping that you enjoy!

Jeffrey

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Realms**

**Chapter Six**

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

He didn't know where he was in the confines of the black cube, but the void he found himself drifting in felt very familiar. It wasn't a comforting familiarity, but rather something more…well it was like an annoying sense of déjà vu; a memorable sensation that he couldn't actively place. The impression was preferable to the off kilter sense he'd been feeling before. This whole situation had buried the needle on his Weird-o-Meter's rather jaded scale.

In all the years since the damned Neko-ken training, he'd never held it together when the cat was set free…not that he could remember any way. There was always the detached sensation of being…elsewhere, but he'd never been able to remember exactly where. Now though, he was here and he was fully aware. He wasn't totally certain as to why things were different this time around, but he had at least an inkling of the reason. It had taken him what seemed forever to come to the realization, but now that he'd uncovered the tidbit of truth, things were starting to fall into place and he wondered how he could have ever missed it.

He knew this place to be a prison. This was where he held the Neko-ken or, at the very least, the memories of the Neko-ken. As it stood, he could still feel the ghostly wisps of the fear and pain lingering at the edge of his awareness, and he understood the power of the technique a little better. In a way it was very Zen – escaping to that perfect moment while embracing the freedom associated with an indomitable part of his soul, to become the Action rather than acting. It was, after a fashion, a step along the road to enlightenment – not to mention controlling the damn technique.

The fear was just the catalyst to reach this normally inaccessible well of power.

So many supposedly wasted hours, in innumerable shrines and temples across the orient, had finally come into sharp focus. He understood the theories that so many of his teachers had been trying to get him to understand…small jigsaw pieces that were finally making a picture – all due to that one missing piece finally finding its place among the rest. Havara-Sensei would be dancing around the shrine if he could have been with Ranma at the moment of epiphany.

The young martial artist laughed at the image of the severe and stoic man hiking his robes around his knees and doing a jig in the middle of the shrine-proper.

The effect this had on the utter darkness of the surroundings was drastic. The dreariness lightened from pitch black to a dark gray, and Ranma could see a number of other objects floating in the void with him. They were indistinct blobs, bobbing along in the murky haze, seemingly unaware of his presence. He counted three, but the gloomy fog couldn't hide the impression that more were drifting in the darkness with him.

He needed more light and after a moment of considering the effect his laughter had had on the gloom, he was certain that he could eventually disperse the void altogether. He tried laughing again, but it was forced and there was no true humor in it. He tried yelling at it, but his voice only echoed back at him. He tried commanding the darkness away, but in the end it remained inert.

There was no telling how long he experimented. It could have been minutes, hours, or days for all he knew. There was no way to measure time in this place. His failures began to slowly take their toll, and his mood began to become more frustrated. With this depression and despair the darkness began to creep in again, obscuring all but one of the floating blobs in the distance. His irritation had reached the point of exasperation, and the void around him seemed to roil with an agitation that mirrored his mood. This should have been a clue for the young man, but his curiosity had shifted entirely to the floating blob not too far off.

Ranma's attention span had never been all that great outside of the martial arts, so he missed more than a few subtle clues that might have helped him escape his supernatural prison, as he tried to discern the nature of the floating shadow. Without realizing his actions, the fog around the object began to thin, revealing a small, female form curled into a tight ball.

Concern and uncertainty immediately overshadowed any other emotion in Ranma's heart. He didn't know who this girl was or how she had come to be here in this place. He vaguely remembered the presence of two women when he had been outside the dark cube. They had been fighting over something, but this girl's slim form and delicate features looked nothing like the images in his mind's eye. She didn't feel anything like the impressions he had of the other two either. He squinted trying to discern more about the figure from afar, and then something very odd happened.

One moment he was a solid thirty meters away from the young woman, and the next he was right beside her. It didn't really shock him as much as he thought it should have though. This whole place seemed more like some whacked out dream than a real place, and so weird things were bound to make more sense than they normally would – yet another significant clue that the young man allowed to slip past him.

As he drifted near the form of the young woman, Ranma was amazed at the fragile beauty before him. In all his short life, he had seen a number of beautiful women – many of them during his travels, but this exotic young woman was something else entirely. Her creamy white skin and bluish white hair wasn't so extraordinary. What really struck him were the woman's pointy ears, chiseled features, and slanted eyes that made her seem otherworldly. With all the obvious clues, he wondered if this woman was an elf…or at the very least, of elven descent. He'd seen enough manga and anime to recognize the archetype. The question of her race wasn't what bothered him though. The fact that she was here, in this place…that was cause for worry as far as Ranma was concerned. Why was she here and how in the world did she get here?

Upon first examination there seemed to be no visible contusions or broken bones, so Ranma was certain that the woman hadn't undergone any physical damage. In fact, now that he was close to her, he could tell that she wasn't in any real distress at all. She looked to be sleeping peacefully, undisturbed by his presence or proximity.

Ranma was uncertain if he should wake her or not. Drifting alone in this weird place however, was not something that he found enjoyable. So, with great care and trepidation he reached out to gently nudge her. As his fingers touched her arm, his vision was filled with a sudden, blinding light that left him seeing spots. He felt an unfamiliar tingling coursing up and down his body, and a flood of memories not his own began flashing through his mind's eye.

Seven hundred and sixty three years worth of experience and knowledge violently lodged itself into Ranma's mind. So too did the image and personality of Eilendindril Fuenin, one of the select few that had the honor and privilege to give her life in order to lay the magical foundation of the Mythal that would protect the city of Myth Drannor.

Ranma, awash as he was in the life of this elf woman, could only drift through the ever-lightening grey void that had once housed his greatest fears. Time blurred further as he relived the life of the she-elf. He didn't even realize that he had come upon a second floating body, this one a male half-elf named Rhistel Amlathudra. Two hundred and thirty years of love and peaceful exploration beneath the trees of Cormanthor, blended with Eilendindril's life…merging to become something else entirely. Memories meshed, personalities fused, and were then absorbed into Ranma's spirit.

And thus it went, from floating soul to floating soul. The knowledge, ambitions, and fears of hundreds were all unwittingly consumed; male and female, child and elder, all walks of life were represented. The spirits of the ancient elven homeland settled upon him, bound to his soul by the magic of the great Mythal of Myth Drannor. He didn't truly understand what the Mythal was beyond the fact that it protected the people housed within it. He couldn't comprehend how he had come to become tied to it either. In the end, all he knew was that it was a part of him now and with it came a number of souls that had made it's protective magic possible. And as he touched each of these floating bodies, drifting in the ether with him, a new set of experiences was experienced and the young man that was Ranma Saotome became something more than he had been. It would take eons for his mind to openly access and accept all the things he was taking into himself, let alone make use of the knowledge and wisdom he had suddenly gained.

Until then, the spirits and souls of the elves would rest here, in this peaceful sea of darkness. He would remain Ranma Saotome, dream of past lives, and occasionally do something rather odd and unnatural…even for him.

As the young martial artist drifted through the void of his subconscious, he came upon a magnificent monument that dwarfed the skyscrapers of Tokyo and Hong Kong by an incredible amount. The mountainous plinth was divided into two colors – a luminescent white marble that seemed to glow with a silvery blue light, and a matte black onyx that seemed to suck the growing light from the void around him. Eight bright stars circled the light side, dancing in a smooth pattern, while gouts of purple fire erupted in violent arcs from the dark side. Large chunks of broken marble and onyx ringed the mammoth obelisk, orbiting the object like a small asteroid belt. A pair of different colored stones would collide every once in a while, resulting in a massive explosion that fragmented the surrounding debris even further.

Ranma, lost as he was in the memories of others, was only vaguely aware of his approach to the baseless spire. It wasn't until he impacted with and absorbed a small chunk of marble, that the young martial artist became fully aware of his situation. Power and a deluge of knowledge unlike anything he had yet experienced coursed through his mind shaking him free of the stupor he had been in. It was too much for his mortal mind to handle and Ranma felt like he was going to explode. More of the small debris hit him, adding to the strain. He fought desperately to maintain a hold on his identity as thousands of concepts bludgeoned his ego.

Throughout the battle of will, he continued to drift closer and closer to the massive stele. The nearer he came to the massive edifice, the larger it became – growing from the size of a large skyscraper, to the size of a small mountain, and on to the size of a large mountain range.

It continued to grow, causing his eyes to bug in alarm in spite of the battle he was waging within himself. As he coasted near a planet sized chunk of black onyx he struggled hysterically, narrowly avoiding a collision. And still the obelisk grew – dwarfing him and everything around him. He knew there was no escaping the imminent impact with the edifice.

There was no way that he could avoid the damn thing!

Worse still he felt something actively starting to pull on him…no, it was two something's. He could feel their individual pulls – one from each end of the plinth. Their draw, for the most part, was equal in power, but he felt himself listing more towards the white marble, if only barely.

His speed increased drastically as he continued to streak towards the monument, gaining more and more momentum the closer he came to the object. He struck more of the small asteroids and was forced to exert all his will on just remaining Ranma amidst the deluge of memories, ideals, and information. He repeated his name like a mantra and worked through the Shuyo na Ippo – the first steps, clinging desperately to the foundation that the Art had become for his life and his identity. The Shuyo na Ippo was the first kata his father had ever taught him, and at the moment it was his only anchor to his personality. When he finally passed through the field of floating stones, Ranma had moved onto the second and third katas; repeating everything he had learned from them and reminding himself of everything that made him who he was. He relived every memory he could dredge up, good and bad, drowning out the excess as best he could.

The structure grew in size filling his vision to the point of excluding all else. In the back of his conscious mind, Ranma knew that if he were to come into contact with the obelisk he would absorb whatever knowledge, power, or memories the thing held. There was little hope that he would retain his identity should that happen. Yet he could find no way to escape the magnetic pull that drew him towards the object.

He growled and struggled against the inevitable, but with each passing moment he became more and more filled with panic at the thought of touching the thing. All around him, the void reflected his fear and frustration in the form of a mighty tempest. Winds blew, lightning flashed, and thunder boomed. Many of the small asteroids were driven together, setting off a blistering chain reaction of explosions behind Ranma. Stones pelted him, sending more distracting tidbits of archaic knowledge through his mind.

"I'm Ranma Saotome." He growled. "Heir to the Saotome Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu. I like food. I like dogs and the colors white, blue, green and red. I'm seventeen years old. I like Helmthorn Berry wine and Kasumi's Sukiyaki. I like…I like to dance the Sebra beneath the stars during Shieldmeet and…and…." The list continued, in spite of the growing speed at which he was now traveling, with only a few unusual additions sporadically added here and there. He knew that he'd never experienced some of the things he had mentioned, but he continued trying to anchor his identity any way. The alternative, in light of his current predicament was unacceptable. The wind swept passed his ears, making his skin feel like it was going to be torn off. He screamed into the maelstrom, raging against the pain

"I'm Ranma Saotome! Goddess of Magic and Loss!"

Something wasn't right about that, but he didn't stop to think about it.

"I live in the Gylonaglym, born of House Llundlar, and the heir of Dweomorheart." He knew that wasn't right. He closed his eyes and madly searched his mind for something, anything that he knew to be familiar. The problem was, he couldn't discern anything specific. The thought of Nerima brought to mind a number apartment buildings built in the boughs of a great tree. The thought of the Tendo home brought to mind a giant castle, floating on a sea of clouds, bound together by eldritch spells and populated with all manner of shadowy creatures.

Desperation seized him and he tried frantically to remember the faces of people he knew. Though, when he did visualize these people, he knew that the images were wrong. His mother and father had never looked that happy standing side by side. Besides, there was no way in Hell that his Pops had ever been that skinny! And since when had his Mom ever been an elf? Kasumi, like-wise, didn't seem to match the picture in his mind. The idea that she would have wings and was surrounded by a nimbus of pure white light, while it fit, didn't make an ounce of sense. How in the world could she cook and clean without those massive wings getting in the way?

Likewise, since when did Nabiki have shadowy skin and that evil little smirk? Sure she was opportunistic, but he'd never tagged her as evil before. More images and faces drifted in and out of his mind's eye, chaotically jumbled with half remembered identities and personalities. While thus distracted, he didn't realize that directly in front of him, sandwiched between the two opposing colors, was an area of overlapping grey that was growing dangerously close.

By the time he finally came out of his funk, the smooth, hoary ground was rushing closer and closer. There was no time to divert his course even if he had the power to do so. Terror, unlike anything he had ever felt filled him.

"I'M RANMA SAOTOME, DAMMIT!" He roared, just as he came in contact with the obelisk.

There was no explosion, no sense of pain or discomfort. In fact, Ranma was surprised that he was standing in one piece, and his mind was beginning to clear. Memories of family and friends began to sort themselves out and realign with what felt right. Shampoo was no longer a sultry elf maid from House Tymdraskylur. Ryouga was no longer an upstart priest of Cyric intent on killing him. Akane's face brought images of foul cooking and sweet smiles, rather than a sense of loss and a need for vengeance.

The young martial artist found himself, weakly sitting down smack dab in the middle of the overlapping gray area between the two types of stone. Relief washed over him as he began to remember who he was and what had happened. For the first time in his life he knew a moment of true clarity and peace as he looked out over the immense strip of gray granite. It seemed to go on for as far as the eye could see, stretching infinitely into the distance on all sides of his vision. He sat, relishing the feeling of finally finding his center and of knowing, without a doubt what made him…him.

After a time he finally stood, secure in himself once again, and examined the area around him. The rough granite surface was speckled with black and silver minerals that sparkled in the light of the now quiet sky above him. The storm that had once raged unchecked was gone and a comforting half-light lit the sky. An infinite number of stars dotted the void now, and Ranma found contentment in just staring up at them. More time passed before he rolled his head side to side, more out of habit than any real need for relief.

"What now, Saotome?" He mumbled, looking out over the endless expanse. He could already feel the boredom tickling the edges of his mind.

Sighing to himself, he scratched the back of his head.

He knew that the white marble area had been on his right when had been falling. Maybe, since he'd landed without absorbing anything, he could safely go exploring. He had little hope of finding anything constructive, but it was something to do. He had taken only one step forward, moving in what he thought was the direction of the marble half of the plinth, when an explosion of purple fire erupted from beneath his feet.

"GYAH!" Ranma jumped in reflex, launching himself high into the air. His pant legs were aflame with dark fire. Surprisingly there was no heat or pain associated with the eldritch blaze. The sensation that he did get from the flames, left him puzzled.

Who in their right mind would feel such a desperate, grasping jealousy from a bonfire? Then again, no one had ever mistaken Ranma for being in his right mind. It was just crazy that a fire would feel scared that he would walk away from it…. He was reminded of Kodachi immediately and shivered at the all-consuming need that the girl represented. He landed and slowly stepped back to his starting point, watching as the flames began to die down. They didn't leave him completely, but the overwhelming anxiety that had gripped him from the flames was subdued.

Shrugging his shoulders, he looked behind him, in the direction of the onyx half and made as if he were going to take a step along that path. Even quicker than the purple flames had sprung up, a silvery blaze circled him and barred his course. Rather than the jealousy he had been expecting, all he felt from the flames was an intense concern for his well-being and an overwhelming sense of love. Dark images began drifting to the surface of his mind, each showing a life more horrible than the last. The silver flames began to move towards him forcing him back a step.

He felt more than recognized the idea that he was at a crossroads - two opposing sides pulling his strings in different directions. It was all very common territory for the martial artist and it sparked a memory of something that had happened before entering the great black cube. There had been two crazy chicks fighting over him, trying to claim him for their own. The whole image made him growl. Why couldn't people just leave well enough alone? Why wouldn't they let him be for once? Ranma closed his eyes and tried to reclaim the peace he had been enjoying but the flames, and all the associated emotions that went with them, persisted.

"Fine." He declared stubbornly. "You want me ta choose? Well, I choose this." Ranma spun in place until he had dislodged the purple flames. He positioned himself directly between the two small fires, the silver on his right and the purple on his left, and then he began to walk.

"Confucius always said ta follow the Middle Path, so I'm gonna follow the Middle Path. You want me, then ya gotta come ta me." He began walking dead center between the two opposing pulls, ignoring the way that both flames seemed to flare angrily. The moment that he began walking a thunderous noise shook the area and the plinth shattered beneath his feet. Colors mixed, shifted spectrum, and literally battled each other. Ranma however walked on, uncaring. The conflict lasted for a long while, with neither side gaining the upper hand; and still Ranma walked onward. He wasn't exactly certain when it drew to a close, but at the end of it all, there was no black, white, or gray. The plinth was gone, save for the path that he walked, and the gray slowly darkened to a deep indigo.

Ranma ignored the changes, intent on walking forward until he finally came to a giant wall of dark blue crystal, glittering and glowing with billions of tiny lights. It rose upward, dwarfing him the closer he came, but unlike the plinth the wall did not fill him with a sense of terror or loss. This was a haven for the pig-tailed boy, a place of safety where he was in control. Ranma took two steps forward and cautiously reached out to touch the barrier. After all that he'd experienced here, discretion was a sign of wisdom – and Ranma learned from most of his mistakes. The instant his fingertips brushed the surface an infinite ocean of power rushed into him.

He panicked, fully expecting to have his identity washed away, like he had been experiencing before. To his surprise the exact opposite took place. He felt centered again, and for the first time in his life…truly in control. Large towers began forming all along the wall, and behind it a massive castle, quite a bit larger than the Imperial Palace, rose from the mists of the void. A grand gate opened in the wall, allowing him entry into the main courtyard of the fortress. He stepped through the gate and a feeling of security washed over him giving him the sensation that, for the first time in his life, he was truly coming home.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Mystra looked up sharply from her receipts as she sat before Kihon'i. Shar turned her head frantically with a growing look of dread, to look at something very, very far away. Something intangible had just gone out of them, leaving both goddesses feeling emptier than they had been a moment before. It was but a miniscule amount of their power as such things were measured, but even this lessoning of their influence was disconcerting.

Neither goddess looked at each other, or their hostess for that matter. They simply gated from the beach where Elminster's tower now stood, without so much as a goodbye or "by-your-leave" to Kihon'i. Had either of them taken a moment to politely excuse themselves, they would have fared so much the better in the long run. The resulting vacuum, left by their swift passing upset the oversized umbrella and the table where the audit had been taking place. This in turn upset the large glass of iced tea Kihon'i had been drinking, dumping it into her lap. In their defense, both their spirits had been tainted by a very chaotic mortal, which was why Kihon'i wasn't slapping both with all manner of nasty injunctions and severe penalties. Instead, the copper skinned goddess simply took out a cellular phone and pushed a button that began dialing a very, very long telephone number. She waited patiently for the other end of the line to pick up, wiping the excess ice and tea from her lap, while tapping her golden pencil on the edge of what was left of the glass table she had been sitting behind.

"IT IS I."

The trouble with contacting a truly "Elder" deity lay in communication. The idea that there is a God of gods isn't a new one, but the whole Eternal Round thing can be confusing, even for an entity such as Kihon'i. So whenever she had to deal with the BIG bosses, she always found that they tended to use small, yet very explicit sentences. At first it was patronizing, but the more she thought about it…well, it made sense. She was still a toddler in the eternal scheme of things, while beings like Lord Ao were something akin to the great-great-great-grandparents of the multiverse.

"I thank you for your attention, Lord Ao. Protocol demands that I call and report." The procedure wasn't so much for Ao's benefit, as it was for hers. He obviously already knew what had happened and in turn laid out the plan to deal with the situation long before he had enlisted her services. The call was more a matter of common courtesy and an opportunity to learn, than anything else.

"DISCIPLINE THEM."

"Do I have your official endorsement, or will this be a Departmental reprimand?" In response to her query, a tablet of black stone, streaked with ivory and jade, materialized before her. With a wave of her hand the tablet shrunk to the size of a young child's hand and affixed itself over the goddess' heart.

"YOU ARE SANCTIONED. LET THEIR CHASTISEMENT BE MEMORABLE."

"How much are they going to forfeit?"

"THE BOY SHALL CLAIM MY DUE."

"And the offense to me?"

"BE CREATIVE."

"There are others looking at the boy from what I hear. How should I proceed?"

"THEY ALREADY HAVE MY BLESSING. LET THEM WEAVE HIM INTO THEIR DESIGNS AS THEY MAY. HOWEVER, THE LAWS GOVERNING THE THREE WILL REMAIN. DEATH SHALL NOT COME TO THEM THROUGH ANY INFLUENCE – DIRECTLY DIVINE, OR OTHERWISE."

Ao's voice paused for a moment, allowing Kihon'i to feel the weight of his decree so that she could pass it on correctly.

"THEIR STAY WILL BE SHORT, THEREFORE ANY PERMANENT BINDINGS MUST TRAVEL WITH THEM WHEN THEY LEAVE. AND THE THREE ARE AGENTS UNTO THEMSELVES AND SHOULD BE AFFORDED THE APPROPRIATE RESPECT."

"I take it that these third parties have been made aware of these provisions?"

"THEY HAVE."

"Wonderful! Less paperwork for me to fill out in the end." Kihon'i paused in her thoughts and nodded. "Looks like everything is in order, so we're done here then. If there's nothing else, then I'll submit my initial report and be on my way."

"SO BE IT."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Highden**

The Isle of Lantan

"HAH! WHAT DID I TELL YE?" Duncan roared ecstatically as he pointed to a shaking and bouncing series of metal tubes and doodads suspended by chains from the shop's rafters.

Bertrold smiled at the triumphant grin plastered over his friend's soot and sweat streaked face. The noise of the monstrous contraption was terrible; even with earplugs, a set of earmuffs and three thick woolen scarves tied securely around his head. The dwarf clapped Bertrold soundly on the shoulder just as the machine belched a thunderous cloud of greasy black smoke. Sam, Duncan's kindly wife, jumped at the sound and wrinkled her nose at the smell.

The young displaced human that made the project's survival possible stood to Sam's left rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Bertrold was amazed that he seemed unbothered by the incredible sounds that his "eenjeen" was producing.

"WILL IT ALWAYS BE THIS LOUD?" Bertrold 's voice was already going hoarse from use. Another explosion of soot and sound made him jump right along with Sam. Young master Keiichi shook his head, and rubbed an oily finger under his nose leaving an impromptu mustache along his upper lip.

"NEED TO WORK MORE ON FUEL MIX – MAYBE ADD MUFFLER TO CUT DOWN NOISE!" The young man moved over to the engine and turned an odd lever, effectively silencing the machine. Bertrold 's ears rang in spite of the sudden absence of noise.

"BAH!" Sam and Keiichi winced at Duncan's booming baritone. "THE MIX IS PERFECT!"

"Is no good! Too much water!" Keiichi's voice barely cut through the ringing in Bertrold 's ears and it didn't seem to even phase Duncan.

"WHAT? SPEAK UP BOY!"

Keiichi sighed and tiredly shook his head. He was smiling though, which meant a great deal to Bertrold . In a little under ten days, the pair had made incredible progress. They had worked tirelessly, scrabbling together scraps from the previous failures. It was amazing how driven Duncan had become. It was driving poor Sam to worry for both her husband's health and poor Master Keiichi's as well. Still, if it had gotten them this far in such a short amount of time, more power to them! From the way that Duncan talked, this single invention was going to have Bertrold swimming in gold.

Speaking of gold….

"Master Keiichi." Bertrold began divesting himself of his protective gear even as he approached the human. It amazed the gnomish merchant when the young man turned politely at the sound of Bertrold 's approach. He had fully expected to have to shout.

"Master Keiichi."

"Yes, Mister Bertrold?" He asked earnestly.

"Begging your pardon lad, but have you had the opportunity to look into that matter we spoke of last week?"

It was a hard effort to hide his anticipation when the young man nodded his head and beckoned him towards the eastern wall of the shop. He paused a step behind Keiichi as they approached a large, oddly shaped, blanket covered, lump set against the wall. It was short by human standards, no taller than Keiichi's waist with a strange contour.

"Is only a…how you say…?" The lad wracked his brain for a word. "Mudel…."

"Model." Bertrold corrected, attempting to keep from wringing his hands impatiently.

"Model…" Keiichi seemed to roll the word around in his head, trying to memorize it. Bertrold nudged him lightly to remind him what they had come here for. The young human blinked and then nodded in embarrassment.

"Sorry." He bobbed his head and then carefully removed the blanket, revealing a compact machine of unknown purpose.

A circular flat stool that Bertrold had once seen in Duncan's study, sat in front of the small rectangular wooden table. Immediately beneath the table was a flat, foot sized piece of metal that had a long bar welded to the side facing the wall. A pair of unremarkable, round, fence posts ran from the floor to the bottom of the tabletop. Attached to the post on the right was a large iron wheel from one of Duncan's earlier experiments, which in turn was secured to another bar that ran parallel with the bottom of the table. Atop the table was an oddly shaped piece of metal, with a long arm that seemed able to move up and down. And attached to this arm was a small head with a stout sewing needle fixed firmly in place.

It was the simplest and crudest design that he had ever seen, but he immediately sat on the stool and began working the pedal. The head with the needle, moved up and down like a metallic woodpecker; rising and dipping into a small circular hole that had been cut into the table top.

"Is not finished." Keiichi protested. "I no have time to make it look nice."

Bertrold held up his hand, silencing the young man. The gnome had a fairly good idea of its purpose, but he wanted to hear it from Keiichi's mouth before going any further.

"What's it used for, Lad?"

"Is…how you say?"

Keiichi looked at Sam with a hopeless sense of frustration and beckoned her over. She happily excused herself from her bellowing husband and nudged Bertrold off the stool where she began working the pedal.

"Isn't it wonderful?" She said excitedly. "I helped Master Keiichi with the idea!"

"Truly marvelous, Sam." Bertrold deadpanned. The metal woodpecker's head bobbed even more furiously. "Just what is it?"

"It's an automated seamstress." She said proudly. Bertrold 's eyes slowly took in the contraption anew. "The thread spool is mounted here and threads down the head, into the eye of the needle. The needle can be changed out for working on different types of materials. Once I got the hang of it, the speed in the tests alone was triple what I could sew in a week's time! And just imagine it Bertrold ! No more sore pricked fingers!"

"And it works by foot power." The gnome murmured. "Simple and elegant. No mess. No loud noises, or whistles. No filthy coal pots or risk of fire! HAH! This beats Fushingold's 'Automatic Tailor' hand over fist!"

Piles of gold began to mount behind Bertrold 's eyes. This little machine was going to make him a rich gnome…well, richer than he already was. All that was needed was a little refinement here and there; small things to make the machine more friendly and attractive for a wider audience, something that Bertrold knew would be necessary. The current design was too primitive to hold any weight with the gnomish market. He needed to get Duncan onboard to fancy things up a bit and it would be ready for a debut at market in no time. Then he could start to recoup some of his losses and still have enough left over for this "Iron Horse" of Duncan's. A little gold went a long way with dwarves, so a generous incentive wouldn't be too much of a stretch to pad both the Steelwater and Morisato purses.

"Well done, Lad. Well done." He patted Keiichi's arm absently and lost himself in the plans for his new "Handless Seamstress." The tailors and dressmakers of Waterdeep wouldn't know what hit them.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Yartar Road**

Northwest of Hemmerling

Usagi stood before the behemoth, the smell of decay heavy in the air between them. The darkness within the room was battled valiantly by the small glowing stones that she had enchanted, but the weak light still cast hideous shadows on the cavern walls around her. She felt the oppressive weight of the earth above her and longed for the freedom that only the open sky could provide.

The monster shifted impatiently before her, looking for an opening in her defenses to exploit. Usagi's heart began to pound erratically in anticipation of the attack. All around her the shadows moved of their own volition, and the voices of the dead whispered their lamentations to her. She tried desperately to close out their cries of regret and demands for justice, to no avail. It was all she could do to keep from dropping the Moon Scepter from her trembling fist.

The monstrous creature before her recognized her fear and chuckled – a sound that seemed more an animalistic growl than anything remotely human. She knew that it was going to make its move at any moment…and somehow, deep inside her heart, she knew that there would be nothing she could do to stop it this time around. She could feel the dread power wafting off of it and knew that she was too weak to fight it off.

:YOU HAVE STOLEN WHAT IS MINE, DAUGHTER OF MYSTERIES.:

The cries of the dead rose in volume at the sound of the voice, and the shadows on the wall flickered, allowing the lights from Usagi's magical stones to catch the gruesome carnage behind the beast. She tried to find her voice – to cry out that she hadn't stolen anything, but she couldn't find the air to even mumble. Her throat clenched, as if someone were choking the words off just before they could find utterance. She fought against the pressure, valiantly pushing against the terror that constrained her.

"…no…" She whispered hoarsely. She pushed against her dread, thrashing against the sudden realization that this was another dream. It had to be another dream, for she knew that she had beaten this foe once already. More words formed and died on her lips, stillborn thoughts and protestations.

:YOU CANNOT DENY WHAT HAS BEEN WITNESSED BY SO MANY. YOU STOLE THEM FROM MY KEEPING. YOU PILFERED THEM FROM THEIR RESTS AND TORMENTS. HEREIN YOU ARE HELD TO ACCOUNT FOR YOUR THEIVERY AND A RECKONING WILL BE MADE. BY LORD AO'S DECREE, THE BALANCE MUST BE MAINTAINED.:

"…no…" Usagi felt her anger rising against the nightmare, and used it against the power that was keeping her silent. "…I…di…I didn't steal anything from you!" The last was forced out with every ounce of her considerable will backing it.

Accompanying the words was a flood of power unlike anything Usagi had safely channeled in her short life. The event was reminiscent of the Galaxy Cauldron, but the moment was fleeting – unlike the sensation she had experienced at the Well of Stars. When she had faced off against Galaxia there was a sensation of being on the cusp of eternity, teetering on the edge of complete oblivion. But this…this was best described as a brush against something much, much larger than even the Galaxy Cauldron – a well of power so deep and frightening that Usagi was certain that she would be unmade by it. Still, she grasped that power and channeled it outward, towards the shadowy figure. She was tired of being attacked. She was tired of being hounded for doing what her heart told her was right. Ultimately, she was just plain tired of being a target for people who thought they could intimidate and control her. She knew what she stood for and it was past time that she attacked first for a change.

Light flared and she screamed, feeling, for all the world, as if her insides were being flash frozen and burned up at the same instant. She felt the universe lurch and skid sideways and then she came abruptly awake to Ulin's frantic shaking.

Faces stared down at her…brightly lit faces. That was odd…there was light everywhere, even though Usagi knew that it was still night, or at least early morning. She felt oddly detached from the world around her too…as if she were outside herself looking in.

She cast her eyes about frantically, hoping to find something to focus on and regain some of her tenuous control. The faces hovering next to Ulin wore the same fearful expression that Usagi saw on her friend's pale jade countenance. It made the displaced princess uncomfortable to find herself under their weighted scrutiny, so she directed her attention elsewhere, in the hopes that her benefactor and the curious onlookers would take the hint and leave her be.

Off to her right, amidst the trees, she noted a tall and imposing figure standing in the shadows, on the very edge of the light. His face was handsome, albeit a bit aloof, and he wore brightly polished plate mail armor that covered evenly tanned skin. His hair was black and his gauntleted hands rested on the pommel of an incredibly deadly looking sword. Were it not for the weapon and the dark, abyssal eyes staring through her, Usagi would have been comforted by his rugged beauty. Unfortunately, the man's presence served to only set her nerves further on edge. She turned away from him, looking for Ulin's familiar face and perhaps a comforting smile…anything to escape the warrior's frigid, damning gaze. Yet wherever she looked, he was there floating on the edge of her vision and awareness.

As she turned away again, a somber, sonorous, voice echoed quietly on the wind.

:ALL RETURN TO MY EMBRACE AT ONE POINT OR ANOTHER. EVEN ONE SUCH AS YOU, DAUGHTER OF MAGIC. YOU CANNOT FIGHT MY INEVITABILITY. RETURN THEM TO ME. RETURN THEM, OR MAKE RECOMPENSE – SOUL FOR SOUL…I CARE NOT WHICH.:

The light slowly evaporated, leaving Usagi and those around her wrapped in a shroud of shadows. She collapsed against Ulin's shoulder tiredly and attempted to regain control over her quaking body. There was no doubt in her mind that she wouldn't sleep any more; just like every other night she'd faced these nightmares over the last month and a half.

Fifty-five days had passed since the Silver Princess had risen from the tomb of Goruch's Mines. Fifty-five days of nigh aimless wandering looking for food and shelter in the wilderness. Fifty-five bloody days of the same stupid, creepy dream…each and every night, without fail. The weight of leading the refugees was starting to take its toll on Usagi's spirit.

After almost eight weeks of slowly walking towards Ulin's "Silverymoon," she was emotionally fatigued and it was quite evident that these people she'd somehow become responsible for weren't going to quietly disappear like she had hoped. No, they continued to look to her for guidance and protection – regardless of whether she had the answers and or power that they needed. With the rising of the sun each morning, Usagi felt more and more like a fraud stumbling helplessly in her attempts to give everyone the confidence they needed to survive until she could find a place that would take them in. Day in and day out, she tried to remember how she had come to this particular juncture in her life. Sadly, the answer remained the same…day in and day out.

It all boiled down to Love and Justice. Never had those two words ever seemed so damning or repulsive. Never had they inspired anything remotely close to true regret in her heart. Still, while she might whine and moan, after it was all said and done, she knew that she wouldn't go back and do things any differently. She'd always followed her heart, no matter how hard the path became or how much it hurt.

Sighing to herself, she silently waved those gathered around her back to their beds. Ulin, Shandri Dunhill, and a few others remained annoyingly close, but Usagi rolled onto her side and tried diligently to ignore them, pretending to go back to sleep. For over two hours she remained awake, listening to the sounds of the night. People slept fitfully throughout the camp, and the Watch called out to each other every ten minutes to ensure the safety of those that rested – and somewhere above and behind her, an owl hooted.

Usagi still hadn't gotten used to roughing it, but she could readily acknowledge the beauty of the wilds. There was something incredibly free about sleeping beneath the stars. If she ever got home, she knew that she would miss the simple pleasure of the wind gently brushing through the trees, or the lonely cry of a wolf in the distance. Perhaps she could convince some of the girls to take a weekend to go camping when she got back…well, if she ever got back.

Thoughts of home inevitably brought Usagi's mind back to other, more pressing concerns.

The dream began to creep back into the displaced Senshi's mind, leaving her feeling uneasy and agitated. She couldn't escape the notion that this was more than a nightmare. The frequency of the visions could not be discounted, nor could the dark message they contained. Up until recently, the dreams had been fleeting. She'd rarely been able to recall them with any clarity. Now however, the message was all too vivid and memorable.

Usagi rolled onto her back and closed her eyes, seeking whatever fleeting comfort she could find in the quiet of the cool night breezes that swept through the camp. The voice had always said that she would have to pay a price for what she had taken. And while Usagi didn't have Rei's training in interpreting dreams, it didn't take a genius to guess what the mysterious voice was getting at.

She sat up slowly and looked out across the glade where the company had set up camp. Seventy-two men, women, and children had followed her away from Goruch's mines – some of whom were sick, lame, or elderly. The group's numbers had swelled over the weeks to reach one hundred and twenty eight.

There were in total thirty-two able-bodied men that had taken up the call to protect the camp. Forty-seven healthy women had proven without a doubt that they could hold their own in a fight, and had bolstered the camp's morale. Out of the remaining forty-nine members of the camp, twenty were children under the age of twelve, nineteen were between the ages of twelve and fourteen, and the other ten were adults that were sick, crippled, or too old to do more than swing a cooking spoon. Add to this number Ulin and Usagi, and the total number of refugees maxed out at one hundred and thirty souls – all of whom looked to Usagi for guidance and leadership with an unnerving sense of…piety. Like she was a goddess or something. The whole affair creeped her out.

Had it not been for Ulin and Shandri, Usagi would have been swamped by the constant petitions of the people that had attached themselves to her skirts. More than that, they had become the lifeline that secured her against the loneliness that constantly threatened to overwhelm her.

Ulin was a great buffer, fending off the more mundane issues and Shandri had been her constant shadow, quietly deflecting the demands when Ulin was otherwise busy. Ulin weathered the angry complaints and demands with surprising patience, while Shandri diligently worked behind the scenes to gently smooth troubles over before they ever got out of hand. The only times that the pair allowed people to bother Usagi was when a dispute grew too heated and needed to be settled by someone with more authority than they had. Although, Usagi did try hard to make herself available to the rest of the members of the camp – often times surprising an individual or a group with her presence.

The role of judge and jury had been, and still was, a very uncomfortable affair for her. Truth be told, she hated it worse than doing homework. The fact was, that Usagi looked forward to Ulin's demanding magic lessons over playing Judge Judy any day of the week. However, the Genasi had pointed out early on that the people respected Usagi's authority more than they respected the sorceress and therefore it was Usagi's job to mete out justice – regardless of how uncomfortable it made the young woman feel.

So far, it hadn't been anything truly serious. She'd had to rule on a dispute between a man and a woman over a blanket; which in the end Usagi had gotten so frustrated over the bickering of the adults that she had scolded them for being children and then gave the blanket to another family altogether. Happily, four nights later, Usagi learned that the man and woman had ended up sharing a blanket and were now very much in love.

Many of the children came before her as well to be scolded for picking fights, taking things from the other children, or for wandering too far from the protection of the camp. It was weird finding herself in a more motherly role – more so because she found herself repeating the same things her mother had said to her time and time again.

The thought of becoming her mother caused her to giggle, which inevitably turned into tears as thoughts of home overwhelmed her. She pushed the depression down, barely silencing her sobs as one of the night watch passed near. She noted with some irony that it was Viet Lackman, the young man that she had first encountered in the mines. He looked out over the shadowy line of bushes tiredly, with one hand on the pommel of his very polished short sword, watching for any hint of danger. The sight of him, looking so haunted and determined helped Usagi push away thoughts of home.

It had been sheer luck that the group hadn't run into anything truly dangerous out in the wilds. The loveable Conner Hennley, a man of fifty some years, had pointed out a number of potentially dangerous signs throughout their trek southeast. From what she could gather, Conner had been a woodsman before his enslavement by Goruch. He'd been teaching Viet throughout their journey, showing him all manner of tracks and woodcraft. Usagi had been secretly fascinated the few times that she had been close enough to listen in, but hadn't gotten up the courage to join the lessons. After all, how would it look if the almighty "Silver Princess" were to ask an old man to teach her too?

Usagi sighed and slipped out from beneath her blankets. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get back to sleep tonight. She stretched stiffly and began walking through the small groups of slumbering bodies, cataloging the dangers that she had heard Conner and some of the other men discussing with Ulin. They had crossed behind a patrol of Uthgart barbarians, whatever they were, two weeks into their travels. The tracks and the fresh signs of passage were met with no little concern amongst the refugees; most of them had apparently heard stories or had some knowledge of the Uthgart, which only added to the anxiety of the situation. They had spent three days walking in silence, stopping only when the sun touched the horizon. By some miracle of circumstance, they had encountered no hostilities from the barbarian tribes…even if they did come upon their handy work.

The hamlet of Moerstead had been at one time a healthy community of over five hundred. That apparently changed when the town elders offended an Uthgart Shaman. The hermit, according to the stories told, cursed the town with a vicious magical plague because of some careless hunters who killed a deer sacred to the Uthgart. The illness attacked the healthy adults first, boiling their minds with high fevers and hallucinations. The next to fall victim were the elderly and the infirm. The plague was vicious in that its victims didn't die right away – they lingered for days until a suicidal madness took them. The only ones physically untouched by the plague were Moerstead's children, but Usagi could see the emotional toll that the suffering had caused. She didn't waste time trying to find the Shaman, but instead called upon the power of her crystal again. The healing that took place was no less miraculous than her last feat, and in the end the group's numbers swelled again. Ulin and Mister Blackhammer had disappeared for a day, and upon returning to the town, assured everyone that the shaman wouldn't be troubling the community any more. Usagi knew in her heart what had probably happened, but refrained from asking out right. She had enough nightmares already. She didn't need to add to them. Knowing the truth of Ulin's confrontation was only asking for another mountain of guilt.

Some of the original group chose to stay in Moerstead to build new lives for themselves, but a large number of the town's citizens forsook their homes in order to follow the "Silver Princess" to whatever fortune she could help them find. Even after all this time, the whole event left a nasty taste in Usagi's mouth.

A week out from Moerstead, while following a game trail, they came into a clearing and were confronted by a rather large black bear. A number of men had mentioned something about bear stew, but before they could so much as raise their homemade spears, the bear had disappeared into the brush. The hungry men started after it immediately, but Usagi had called them back. It was one thing to have to eat Thumper or Bambi, but the thought of eating Winnie the Pooh just made Usagi's stomach lurch.

From that day forward, the group had been blessed with odd happenings – small stacks of dead wood along the trails that they had been walking, a pile of freshly caught fish and rabbits on a rock that were encountered by the scouts, and on one very peculiar occasion they came upon a rather large number of hemp bags filled with clothing and much needed supplies. Conner had said that these gifts had come from some nature-friendly benefactor, an elf or a ranger perhaps, something that Ulin guardedly concurred with. In any event, Usagi made it a point to leave little thank you notes and small gifts of her own when ever they encountered the blessings of their mysterious benefactor.

Outside of those incidents though, things had been very quite for the group; too quite according to Ulin. The sorceress had spent every night furthering Usagi's lessons in magic, pushing Usagi to learn small spells and how to use Weavesight, to see how magic flowed and recognize how it was being used. In the last week, Ulin had insisted that Usagi learn how to set wards in order to alert them of danger, and the added security allowed almost everyone to rest a little easier. Unfortunately, the magical wards didn't protect against nightmares or hallucinations.

Usagi passed one of the other guards, Nam Holling, and waved. He nodded and smiled silently then returned his attention to the perimeter of the grove. She moved closer to the slightly balding man, but he held up his hand and shook his head. Usagi understood the man's rejection; he didn't want to be distracted. Apparently Ulin wasn't the only one that feared the idea of their luck running out. The majority of the camp seemed on edge about the uneventful progress they'd made. Happily, they were nearing another township. If things went well, then they wouldn't need to worry about the other shoe dropping. All she had to do was convince the town elders to take in the refugees, and then convince the refugees to stay in the town instead of following her all the way to Silverymoon. The young woman sighed and drifted onward through the grove, looking more like a ghostly apparition than a living person.

She looked over the faces of the children as she passed, bending down every once in a while to pull up a blanket or comfort a whimpering voice. She kissed each of their heads as she finished, before moving onto the next child. Each of their names were on her lips as she passed, and she was comforted to notice that more than one motherly woman cracked an eye when Usagi drew near.

In her mind's eye she saw the warrior again, dressed for battle in his polished armor, with sword drawn. She could feel his oppressive hand hovering over the camp, waiting for the inevitable confrontation.

If he wanted her to pay a price for these innocents, then she would. Whatever the cost, she wouldn't let him have them back. And if he pressed her, as so many enemies had in the past, then she would take the fight to him.

She would fight him and win.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

There are places, throughout the vastness of Faerun, that hold sway over the fates of men, elves, and beasts alike. These places do not respect the whims of morality, nor do they pay heed to the subtle conventionalities of life and death. They exist as they always have: above the judgments of Gods and Mortals. They are what they are, and for good or ill they serve all equally.

One such place, in the heart of the fabled ruins of Myth Drannor, has served many over the centuries. Some of these masters were benevolent and others diabolical. The Pool of Radiance cared not who used its power. Its magical waters continued to flow, regardless of who attempted to harness them.

To describe a Pool of Radiance, one only has to imagine a raw nerve of magic, exposed and unrefined, for all to access and influence. The power that the pool offers is great, yet those bold (or stupid) enough to make the attempt to yoke such potential, more often than not, found their desires and dreams consumed by the pool. Their minds, bodies, and spirits were quick to follow. Some have said that tapping the pool is like trying to drink an ocean in one large swallow.

Over the years, agents of varying moralities have knowingly and unknowingly corrupted the purity of these places of power – some for the betterment of all and others for the purposes of destruction.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Myth Drannor**

Khindristryx stirred as a soft, multicolored light danced in the Pool beneath her. She had spent over four decades patiently undermining the former occupant of this large chamber; laying her plans long before her prey had even thought of obtaining the powers of the Pool. She had manipulated allegiances, scuttled trust, and sown seeds of discord amongst the ranks of Pelendralaar, the Red Death's faithful. The doubly deceased dracolich had never imagined that the sanctity of his lair played host to an unwitting traitor. Khindristryx thought it poetic irony that the same buffoon that had overseen Pelendralaar's "Ascendance" was the very instrument of the undead dragon's undoing.

That had been a little over three months ago and the effort had paid off quite well in terms of profit and power as far as the former green dragon was concerned. She had since undergone her own "Ascendance" into lichdom and destabilized or absorbed the entirety of Pelendralaar's forces. Nothing was more satisfying to the new dracolich than a well-executed plan, especially when it involved such a pompous enemy as Pelendralaar. Ilthylandrinimus had been avenged, and his horde reclaimed. All that remained for Khindristryx to concern herself with was consolidating her forces and executing the secondary phase of her plan – subjugating the fabled lands of Myth Drannor and returning them to their natural splendor. Such an undertaking wouldn't come easily or cheaply, and in the end it would more than likely take a century or two to clean the rabble from her new domain.

Yet, even before Pelendralaar fell, Khindristryx had been busy laying the groundwork for the next phase of her plan. When it became apparent what the former red dragon had been planning, it took little effort to cultivate the necessary allegiances amongst the inhabitants of the cursed elven city to overthrow the ambitious tyrant.

The Baatsu were easily swayed to her promises and could effortlessly be played against the Tanar'ri with little in the way of repercussions for her own holdings. Their Bloodwar would eventually see the end of their foul presence within a year's time if properly managed. The demons and devils cared little for the machinations of dragons and men, which made them straightforward to manipulate. A promise here, a word of warning there…and their attentions were focused well away from her interests.

Something in the borders of Myth Drannor was already stirring them against each other, and if rumor was to be believed, it was hunting the Infernals with great prejudice. The identity of the hunter or hunters yet remained a mystery, but the power necessary to kill so many of the Infernals had to be respected. Regardless of who or what was destroying the Baatzu and Tanar'ri, Khindristryx knew that she would have to tread carefully lest she draw too much attention to herself. Few that hunted demons and devils, loved the undead, therefore the dracolich had adopted a deportment of patient observation, rather than actively pursuing more information. She knew that she would eventually have to investigate this unknown element, lest it disrupt her carefully laid web of intrigue. Until then, she would consolidate her assets and build her contingency plans.

The Cult of the Dragon, at least those members that remained in Myth Drannor, were hers, heart and soul. In their eyes the testimony of her divinity was Pelendralaar's downfall. They had easily shifted their prayers and favor to Khindristryx, worshipping her with a fervor that was altogether insane. They made for good agents and fodder, but beyond that she had yet to fully explore their usefulness. Up until now, she had simply used them as intermediaries between the different power groups in and around Myth Drannor. They had gathered sketchy information about the Demon Hunter, but it seemed all but impossible for a lone she-elf to cause that much damage. Still, the undead dragon had heard any number of strange and unbelievable tales in her millennial life span. What was one more?

Khindristryx shook her head and smiled at the reckless imaginations of her minions. The very act caused the rotting flesh on her snout to flap and sag disgustingly. Truly humans were a bleating folk, able to inspire such greatness in one breath and in the next send the whole race into a mad and frothing frenzy of fear and paranoia. It was a wonder to her that they had survived the ages as well as they had….

Unlike the imprudent Pelendralaar, Khindristryx held no pretentious belief that she was a goddess – not yet at least. That status, while within her reach, was years away from fruition. Realizing this and accepting it rendered any effort to usurp or undermine the dracolich through the Cult of the Dragon, doomed from the outset.

There were other enemies to be leery of besides the Infernals and the mystery that hunted them. The rogue elements of the drow and the treasure hungry mercenaries from outside the borders of Cormanthor, held little concern for her at the moment; her pact with the Deepspawn saw to it that Myth Drannor was fairly swarmed with monsters to bog down and challenge any foolish enough to enter the cursed city. However, the unpredictability of such guests was not something to dismiss out of hand. Too many of her kin had fallen prey to the unnatural luck of a treasure hunter or glory hound. All it took was one lucky soul, to undo the carefully laid machinations of centuries.

After all, no plan was truly fool proof.

That thought alone set her sharp mind to turning back to the mysterious devil hunter again. Perhaps it was time to look into the matter with more than a passing interest. Then again, the Infernals could just as easily fallen prey to something else within Myth Drannor's borders.

The Phaerimm were the most likely culprits. They were a force to be reckoned with, and they were no one's fools. If there were any contingent to truly be feared, it was these creatures. They were the solitary reason for the longevity of her plans – without them in the picture, Myth Drannor could be hers in under a decade.

Alien by even a dragon's standards, Khindristryx had learned to use extreme caution when dealing with these ancient threats. After watching a squadron of Tanar'ri systematically wiped out before her eyes, she thought it prudent to adopt a "wait and watch" policy with them as well. She hoped that eventually the Phaerimm would lose their interest in Myth Drannor and move on. The conical monstrosities were magical geniuses and masterful strategists, intent on destruction when roused. Khindristryx could openly concede that these beasts were superior to her mentally, if only because of their numbers. One, she felt confident she could handle. Two would be difficult, but not outside her reach…however there were a total of eight Phaerimm floating about the city, searching for their lost treasures.

Khindristryx desired to rule Myth Drannor and all of Cormanthor, and she held little doubt that out of all her neighbors, the Phaerimm were her greatest threat. She would need a great deal more power and a number of solid plans and contingencies primed, if she were to face them all and survive. Which meant that the other distractions in her new realm needed to be dealt with first. Perhaps she could covertly pit some of these nuisances against the Phaerimm…to dwindle their numbers a bit more to her favor.

She wasn't foolish enough to hold a great deal of faith in the idea that these dread foes would be undermined so easily. It would take a great deal more than demons and drow to remove these menaces from the picture. No, the key to truly defeating the Phaerimm, and in turn gaining all her desires, was held in the pool beneath her. That much was obvious. All that she needed was time to put it to proper use. Time however, was not a commodity that she had in great reserve. Especially considering the way that the Pool of Radiance was resonating.

Something powerful had come to Myth Drannor – something that could upset the fragile balance of things and irreparably destroy Khindristryx's newborn power. Whether this entity or power was her mysterious demon slayer or something else entirely, she could not know. The dracolich shifted her rapidly rotting bulk across the stones of the chamber's scarred floor, and watched as the Pool of Radiance became even more agitated.

What was coming? Or rather, what had already arrived in her new kingdom?

Khindristryx sent her will into the Pool and immediately found herself fighting it for dominance, an occurrence that had happened all too often of late. An ocean of power immediately threatened to scour her from the face of the earth, but she fought against it. She clawed her way to dominance, biting and slashing the raging torrent into submission. As she gained her tentative control over the powers of the pool, she cast her awareness along the Weave, looking for the source of the resonance.

Darkness surrounded her for a time, and she felt the immensity of the void dwarf her utterly. Few things can come close to humbling a dragon, but even these mighty titans have their limitations. Khindristryx relished the feeling, not out of any sense of masochism, but for the realization that there was more for her to achieve.

Being small gave one purpose.

She allowed herself a moment to bask in the limitless expanse, before again focusing her will on the Pool. She needed to know how to defeat the Phaerimm and uncover what new authority had come to Myth Drannor, threatening her rule. Even as the question was posed, the black void around her was sundered.

A great rumbling shook the emptiness and the black expanse before her split in twain. White light spilled forth, bathing her…blinding her. Her fragile control over the Pool was shattered, and she felt her awareness being yanked back. She roared in pain as the light burned the rotting flesh from her bones; her spirit fled back to the Pool's chamber with all possible haste. As she was retreating, Khindristryx chanced one last look into the light and trembled.

Looking back at her was a single great eye, the size of the entire world. Its massive black iris, surrounded by a stormy gray ocean, contracted to focus on her. The dracolich could bear no more and fled with all speed back to the relative safety of her palace.

With the connection to the Pool severed, Khindristryx lay spent before the magical well. The flesh that had hung, rotting from her bones, was little more than ash now, piled beneath her in a gritty blanket across the smooth stone of her perch. The primal rock that served as her bed bubbled in places. Her bones were no longer bleached ivory, but now were blackened and burnt, a testimony to her insatiable curiosity. She had no strength to lift even her skeletal fore-claw from the superheated flagstones, let alone berate the fool Bodvyn that knelt fearfully at the far western entrance to her sanctuary.

"Speak, priest." Those two words alone weakened the dracolich further.

"The Dread Lord Bhezmit, of the Black Gut Legion, and the High Commander Ulron of Garganon's Fifth Column have arrived for an audience with you, oh Divine One."

Khindristryx's echoing hiss made the priest cower.

"Slack their thirsts and their lusts, Bodvyn. Be free and generous with the slaves and prisoners..." The dracolich whispered tiredly. "…With apologies for the delay that I must impose upon them. Tell them each, that I have grave news for their ears only."

The undead dragon shifted irritably, drawing as much strength as she could from deep within herself. It was going to take all of her cunning and skill to divert these two from noticing her weakness. The priest remained prostrate, waiting to be dismissed.

"Keep them ignorant of each other…but not too ignorant. I may have to enact a few of my plans more rapidly than originally intended." The man nodded, but otherwise did not move. "Go quickly, priest."

Khindristryx ignored the man's rapid retreat in favor of improvising plans within plans. She was never one to miss an opportunity to gain power…especially one that would accelerate her plans an hundred fold. But how does one defeat a god when surrounded by so many powerful enemies?

The dracolich growled in frustration as she looked to the maelstrom that the Pool of Radiance had become. An idea sparked on the fringes of her mind and began to grow rapidly.

Of course! It was so simple.

Like all of her plans of late, the Pool was the key. It would be a tasking endeavor to accomplish; one that could just as easily be her undoing should she misstep. Her only consolation was the fact that she was certainly not the only one to notice the approach of this powerful being. She would have grinned had she still had the flesh to do so. Things were coming together even more rapidly now.

If a god truly walked the forests of Cormanthor again, then the undead dragon needed fodder to weaken it, while she subsumed control over the Pool of Radiance. Pelendralaar had already laid the foundation, and it was Khindristryx's hope that she could finish what her predecessor had started before gaining the full attention of her powerful adversaries. There was no margin for error here. One blunder would mean the dracolich's second death. Still the alternative was too delectable to pass up.

If the beast still retained her lungs, she would have sighed.

It looked as if she would be becoming a goddess after all.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Ranma-neko roused from her nap and stretched languidly before bathing herself. The Blight Tongue had visited her dream, which meant that the Flame Tongue was dead. There was no way that the Flame Tongue would let the Blight Tongue enter its territory otherwise. Ranma-neko sharpened her claws on the stone of the cavern walls, ponderously. Great slabs of stone were sheared away beneath her languid attentions. She yawned and then licked her paw, weighing her goals for the day.

She would play with the Burning Ones and the Black Hearts. They needed to be dealt with once and for all. The black almost-men she would leave alone for now, but the Blight Tongue also needed to be dealt with. The question was who to play with first?

Purring, she left the cavern she had laired in and caught a scent on the air. The Burning Ones were close by, as was a pack of Black Hearts. Ranma-neko grinned. She would play with them a bit and then take them to the grumpy see-through-she.

If anyone needed to play more, Ranma-neko knew that it was the grumpy see-through-she.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Highden**

Keiichi sighed and wiped his brow as Sister Maerdith Toulin scribbled something down in her ever-present journal. Her fingers were stained brown and black from ink and there was a small smudge on her forehead, just above her right eyebrow. Keiichi smiled fondly, remembering the numerous times he had seen Megumi in a similar state. Sister Maerdith was fast becoming a fixture in Keiichi's life as she quietly sat in the background studying her notes and scribblings. Keiichi returned the large iron hammer to its hook on the wall and scooped up a black, stiff-bristled broom from near the door of the shop. The woman was homely, but by no means unattractive. Had she taken the time to address her appearance, she would have given Sayoko a run for her money. In a way, she reminded him of a lot more confident Sora. Thoughts of home washed over him and he felt a sudden pang of homesickness.

"Thank you."

He looked up to see Sister Maerdith looking at him over the rim of her spectacles.

"What for?" He bent his head and began sweeping, as much to occupy his hands as to hide his sadness.

"For taking the time to answer my questions." The woman allowed her chin to drop into her hand as she leaned over the book in her lap. "Your world is so fascinating. The technology, public schools…" She glanced at her notes. "…refrigerators, airplanes…. It seems idyllic."

Keiichi shrugged.

"Is all good."

"'It is all good.'" She corrected.

"'It's…'" Keiichi amended with a sad smile.

"You miss it don't you?" The rhetorical question was directed more to herself, than to Keiichi it seemed. She had somewhat of a guilty expression on her face that only enhanced her likeness to Sora in that moment.

"I miss someone." He said after a moment. "Very much. But this place is…how you say? Nice? Good? It make I want to see everything."

"'It makes me want to see everything.'" She corrected again. "You're mixing up your pronouns again."

Keiichi nodded and closed his eyes, trying to make sure that he corrected the mistake. He was never any good with languages. They always seemed to become jumbled in his head. Sister Maerdith seemed to sense this and smiled.

"Think of it as a mathematical formula. Certain parts are plugged in to achieve a desired end. It's a linear process and you just have to learn the different rules. Don't worry, it will come in time."

Keiichi nodded and smiled again before returning to his sweeping. Sister Maerdith went back to scribbling for a moment, leaving Keiichi to wonder over what she was currently writing about. Was she writing about him, or about what they had been talking about before? It took him several moments to realize that he had stopped sweeping and was staring at the strange symbols that she was scribing into the book. Her hand was sure and steady, very unlike his handwriting.

"Is something wrong, Master Keiichi?" He blinked and then blushed when he realized that he was gawking at her.

"No. I'm sorry to stare…is just…how do you say? I was asking what you write?"

"You were wondering what I was writing?" She clarified.

"Yes." Keiichi nodded.

Sister Maerdith pushed her glasses up to rest more comfortably on the bridge of her nose and then rolled her neck.

"It's actually a history of your stay here. Something of a practical biography that Father Ellosin has asked me to chronicle."

"You are writing about I…I mean…me?" At her nod, Keiichi felt very self-conscious. "But I am no one. I am just a normal person."

"You are hardly normal Master Keiichi, not in this world…nor I suspect in your own."

This set Keiichi back on his heels for a moment. She did have a point. How many people could say that they were personally involved with a goddess, let alone had personal connections to more than one? He shook his head and smiled.

"Can you tell me more about your life with her?"

Keiichi pondered her request for a moment before beginning to describe some of the more…tame adventures that he had experienced with Belldandy and her sisters – Sayoko's trouble with Mara, the arrivals of Urd, Skuld, and an edited version of Peorth's visit. Maerdith listened patiently without interrupting until finally, with half the afternoon gone, Keiichi finally quieted.

"I wish I could hear her voice."

Maerdith laughed bitterly.

"Why you laugh?" He said defensively.

"Forgive me Master Keiichi, but you are spoiled."

Keiichi blinked and looked at the ground self-consciously.

"How so?"

"Do you have any idea what I would give to hear Ohgma's voice? To speak with him as you converse with your Belldandy?" Her face took on an almost bitter cast as she looked at him. "It is wondrous to me that he deems me worthy enough to answer my prayers, let alone grant me the endowments and spells that he does." She shook her head and smiled longingly. "You are a truly blessed man to have been given the gifts that your goddess so lovingly bestowed upon you. Please forgive me if I point out that you are acting like an ungrateful child."

Keiichi frowned, somewhat upset with the frankness of her assessment. Maerdith snapped her book shut and stood, cutting off his protests.

"I have watched you very carefully these last few days Master Keiichi. Not once have you prayed to your goddess. Not once have you given her thanks for your life and health, or offered up a sacrifice in the hopes of receiving the direction that only the Divine can provide. Instead you mope and tinker, without thanks or recognition of the aid others give you. How do you expect to get home? Will you wait for her to do all the work for you? Is that how you show her your love? Is it any wonder then, that she has not contacted you? You sir, are a thoughtless child because your actions declare you as such. It is up to you to seek her favor. Not the other way around."

Keiichi's frown deepened and his hands clenched the broom tightly against the harshness of Sister Maerdith's blunt words. Sadly, he couldn't discount her points.

"Please forgive me Master Keiichi." Maerdith tucked an errant strand of loose hair behind her ear. "I spoke out of turn."

Keiichi didn't know what he could say to this and sighed. What did he know about praying? The only times he'd ever been religious were during festivals and holidays which, upon looking back on things, seemed incredibly disrespectful to Belldandy and her sisters. Maerdith was right. He was acting like an ungrateful child. Keiichi's brow furrowed and uncertainty welled in his heart. The words of Ty Binder filled his mind again - _"How can a man, who has truthfully proclaimed to love and be loved by a goddess, not be religious?"_

"I…" He paused and scratched his bare cheek in order to hide his shame. "I am…how do you say? Not knowing how to pray to Belldandy." Maerdith stared at Keiichi as if he were pulling her leg.

"You are serious!" She exclaimed. "You really have no idea?"

Keiichi shook his head ruefully, and set his broom aside in favor of sitting on a stool near the doors of the shop.

"Well, now. This is unexpected." Sister Maerdith tapped her quill against her chin ponderously. "How did you communicate with her when you were separated? Or better still, how was it that you called upon her the first time?"

Keiichi scratched his head and shrugged.

"I call her on the phone."

Maerdith immediately started flipping through her journal, looking for a reference.

"This was the form of long distance communication…right?"

Keiichi nodded and Maerdith sighed.

"Is this the only way that people in your world contact their deities?" Keiichi's brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"No…I think they go to church and make offerings at temples."

"Neither of which you have at your disposal here." The priestess admitted. "Well, Master Keiichi, there is only one bit of advice that I can offer you."

Maerdith began packing the rest of her belongings in silence, leaving Keiichi to wonder if she was going to finish her thought.

"You must build a shrine to honor your goddess and exercise a little faith. Call upon her name daily until she deems you worthy of an answer." Ty Binder's words echoed in the woman's voice - _"…exercise a little faith."_

Keiichi had been dodging all thoughts of the discussion he'd had with Binder or whoever he was for weeks now, but here faced with his words again, Keiichi couldn't escape the ideas set forth during that conversation.

"_One of you is divine by birth. One divine by chance. But one of you can be divine by design."_

"Divine by design…" he whispered.

"I'm sorry?" Maerdith paused at the door.

No…nothing." Keiichi waved her off. "Just wondering what I saying should be."

"That's, 'What I should be saying.' Master Keiichi." The Oghmite shook her head. "Try not to worry about the words, so much as the true meanings behind them. Let your love guide your voice and you cannot fail."

Keiichi watched the priestess leave without really seeing her. He sighed again and looked heavenward. He had absolutely no ideas about where to start or how one should about building a shrine to a goddess. In the end though, he was Japanese, and had watched his relatives honor his great aunt and grandfather on certain holidays. He wasn't sure if Belldandy would appreciate something like that, but it was at least a place to start.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Plains of Huigun**

The Yartar Road

"Has she spoken to anyone today Master Blackhammer?" Ulin spared another worried glance at her charge from the corner of her eye. Usagi sat alone before a fire that she had built with her own hands, far from the rest of the camp. The change was startling to say the least. Physically she had changed little, and outside of the almost metallic silver sheen to her hair, the girl was just the same as before. There was a tangible aura about her now that was hard to define though. It was peaceful and yet palpably unsettled.

"Same as yesterday…" The gruff dwarf from Mistobar followed Ulin's eyes to the lithe young woman and shook his head. "…not a word to anyone. Not even the li'l ones."

Ulin sighed and reclined against the large trunk of a Leatherleaf.

"She did crack a smile though when little Juil brought her some flowers, and if yer asking meself that's more'n we've seen since the nightspooks stopped comin'. She's on edge, she is. Like she's waitin' fer the hammer to fall. Still, a smile's an improvement over a dark cloud o' worry by anyone's measure." He took a pull on his pipe and let out a nice fat ring of lazy smoke into the night.

Ulin ran her hand through her dark, cropped hair and made a sound in her throat that was reminiscent of stones grinding together. She wasn't sure what she was frustrated with more; the fact that Usagi had returned to her silent brooding or that Ulin had no idea why the girl had retreated from the rest of the world. That wasn't true. She knew the dreams were at the heart of the problem, but Usagi refused to share them with anyone.

"Well, is it an improvement or not?" The dwarf growled matter-of-factly. Ulin tossed the dwarf a sidelong glance that was flat as slate and as hard as granite. He sat solidly, unmoved by the stare. Ulin relented and took a deep cleansing breath.

"I'm sorry, Master Blackhammer."

"Fer what, Lass? Carin' fer a friend?" He chuckled. "Aye, there's something to be sorry for."

Ulin shook her head and smiled softly. That's what she loved most about dwarves. They were direct, brutally blunt, and made no apologies about what they were feeling. Ulin wished that she could be as stalwart in her feelings. Sadly, all that she felt these days was unsettling guilt. She picked up a stick from the small fire that they had made and prodded the coals.

"I suppose that you are right. We should take pleasure where we can. We're less than a day's walk from Hemmerling, and will be speaking with their Gentlemen's Council in the morning. I should be happy that we are making such steady progress. But at what price? She is changed Master Blackhammer, and I wonder if it at all for the better."

Ulin looked at her young friend across the way and let her head droop.

"These dreams of hers have taken a dark turn and she wakes every night drenched in cold sweat and crying out in a fearsome rage. Half the camp can hear her defiant bellowing, and yet no one can give me the answers that I need. Why does she wake screaming, 'I did not steal them?' and why do I hear her calling out the names of so many within the camp? Three nights ago, the entire camp woke to her floating seven feet in the air, surrounded by silver flames, rebuking this invisible enemy of her dreams. It is disquieting. Now that the dreams have suddenly stopped…. I wanted to help her, Master Blackhammer. I wanted to give her hope, but all that I have brought her is pain and suffering."

"Yer heart's still wantin' to help her I'm thinkin'. So quit yer bellyaching and get to it!"

"And just how do you propose that I accomplish this wondrous miracle? I try to keep the pressures of the camp from touching her, but even that seems a poor trade for all that she has suffered so far. I cannot return her to her home, nor can I fathom this new burden that she carries."

Ulin stabbed her stick full into the fire, causing the ground to tremble a bit from her anger. The dwarf looked momentarily troubled but he squared his shoulders and closed his mouth around his pipe to keep from saying anything.

"How, in Mystra's holy name, can I help someone, when I don't know what the burden is?"

The jade skinned Genasi tossed her hands in the air.

"No one will tell me what happened. No one will explain to me where all of these people came from. From the ragged and dirty state of their clothing, they had to be prisoners in the mine and yet no one seems to know each other. The fact that many of these people seem to be wearing burial rags from a hundred years ago makes even less sense. It's as if some mad group of refugees raided a cemetery." She swept her arm out to encompass the large encampment. Over twenty campfires blazed throughout the area, each boasting between two to five occupants.

"No one will explain why they all but worship Usagi. And she will not confide in me how she is so changed, both physically and spiritually. So I ask again, what would you propose that I do to help my friend when I cannot see the root of the problem, Master Dwarf?"

Garl Blackhammer shifted uneasily and eyed the woman across from him. But, like every other time that she had confronted him about the event at the mines, he refused to speak. Ulin could see a need in him to talk about it, but all he did was stroke his beard nervously and steal glances Usagi's way.

"Oh, for the love of Moradin! Answer me!"

Invoking the name of the dwarf's god probably wasn't a good idea, but Ulin was past caring for subtlety. The sorceress wasn't certain what had caused her patience to snap. Most of the earth-touched were a patient lot and very slow to anger, but Ulin had something of hairline fault in her temper that had, on more than one occasion, left her raging like a volcano. Normally she wasn't so flappable, preferring to react ponderously rather than brashly. But Usagi's condition had stretched Ulin's nerves thin; she had taken it upon herself to help the displaced youth and up until now, her every effort had been nothing short of one disaster after another. Which was why, in her frustration and impatience for an answer, she reached across the fire, seized the dwarf by the beard and drug him across to all but sit in her lap until his fat nose was pressed firmly against her dainty one.

Something in her eyes must have shaken the dwarf, for she saw fear reflected back at her.

She was about to push the issue further when she felt a delicate weight on her shoulder. It was firm, yet tender at the same time. The sudden sense of peace that washed over her was sign enough that Usagi stood at her back. She reluctantly released the dwarf, and let her chin drop to her chest weakly. Her leg still throbbed in spite of the herbs she ate and drank, as well as the multiple healings that Usagi had given her. After a silent moment, Usagi's hand left her shoulder and Ulin heard her friend's steps retreat back to her fire.

"I apologize, Master Blackhammer. I should not have abused your person in such a manner." Ulin could not meet his eyes. The last thing that she was expecting from him was laughter though. Anger yes, but she was unprepared for his mirth. "Is something funny about my apology, Master Blackhammer?"

Garl waved her to silence and shook his head.

"I'm not laughin' at ye, Lass. If ye were a dwarfmaid, a bit o' beard tuggin' like that would get ye kiss and a bit of a tickle. Not to mention a nice, fat marriage proposal to boot!"

Ulin snorted and then laughed herself. It lasted only a moment though, before her attention was again, inevitably, drawn back to Usagi. Garl stood in the corner of her eye and moved to sit beside her. The silence stretched long between them, all but consuming the noises of the night beneath its weight. The dwarf squirmed a bit and tugged at his beard a lot, but finally he breathed deeply and spoke."

"Ye have to understand, Lass. What happened back at the mines was…well…it's still a bit hard to understand. Even fer those o' us that experienced it first hand."

Ulin remained silent, patiently letting the dwarf speak. The door was open, and the last thing she wanted was to have it shut in her face.

"I'd been stuck in that hole fer almost five years. That goblin kissin' bastard Goruch done stole me mine, and brought in the children so that I wouldn't kill 'im and escape." Garl spit into the fire, causing it to hiss. "The children brought the parents, and they weren't prepared to deal with the numbers o' chickin' lizards that Goruch brought to bear. He'd set the lot of us to pullin' the ore, all the while feedin' us just enough rotten meat and worse to keep us alive and working. I had friends die in me arms, Lass." He pointed over to another cook fire at a man that sat silently staring up at the stars through the open spaces in the trees.

"Stedd Greycastle had his head squished by a cave in." Garl's finger drifted to a stout woman and a portly man surrounded by a number of sedate children. "Kerri Thimble over there, fell to Goruch's monstrous lust and Juhn Reedhold died trying to save her." The stubby finger passed over a half-elf turning a spit. "Taeghen Amalith got himself skewered by a faulty ceiling beam, and Jhessith just beyond him…she done killed herself when she found Goruch's eyes on her one night. He didn't even get the satisfaction of opening the cell door, let alone touchin' her. She done saw him coming and took up a sharpened bit of stone and shoved it into her brainpan." Garl mimed a sharp jabbing motion at his right temple.

Ulin swallowed, but said nothing.

"We all sang for her afterwards and were happy to endure the lash for Goruch's shame and anger of the next few weeks. There's lots of people here that I don't know, but it ain't hard to guess where they come from. Moradin's Hammer, Lass! I was about to enter the halls o' the Mountain King meself, when I heard the sweet song o' her voice." Garl's eyes drifted inevitably towards Usagi, and settled upon her. "Me chest was crushed flat by a nice chunk of stone, and I could hear the sounds of hammers ringing off anvils and me kinsmen chanting the Cadence. But then I feel her, quiet-like at first. But even then she was bright as a forge fire and as warm as me Mum's bosom…and it only got more beautiful the stronger her song became."

His voice fell to little more than a whisper and Ulin, as close as she was to him, had to strain to hear his words.

"'Come back to us.' She said." He dropped his eyes and looked at his hands. "'We cannot abide the day without you.'"

The sorceress looked at Usagi numbly, uncertain of how to digest the dwarf's tale.

"She called to me an' I came back to her. I forsook me kin, and me final rest fer her, and I'll be damned if I know why." The dwarf sighed and pulled on his pipe again. The sweet smelling, blue-gray tobacco smoke drifted from the bowl in a graceful dance.

"Are you afraid that they won't welcome you back?" Ulin dared ask. The dwarf shrugged his shoulders and stared off into the night.

"I turned me back on me father's fathers. That's the type of sin that stains ye fer good."

"I'm sorry for you loss." Ulin laid her hand over his forearm. To her surprise, he patted it companionably and smiled.

"Me grandfather, Baroundyn Blackhammer, told me that fer good or ill we set our hammers to the anvil. Once yer committed to shaping the metal, there's no sense in stoppin' until ye see what's wantin' to be made. Fer good or ill, I'm tied to her. Just like you an' everyone else in this here camp." He smiled again and shrugged. "She called to us and we came. We might as well see where she's going to lead us."

Ulin smiled and nodded her head.

"You're a wise dwarf, Master Blackhammer."

"Bah! Ye'd best be wise and stop callin' me 'Master'." He squeezed her hand and smiled, causing his thick black beard to expose his top lip. "Me name's Garl, an' I'll be expectin' that ye use it, Lass." Ulin returned the gesture.

"Thank you, Garl." She wanted to say more, but the dwarf stood abruptly.

"Bah! Women an' their 'thank you's'…"

The sorceress watched as the dwarf scooped up a large rooty club he'd been carving on lately and stomped off into the shadows of the night. He paused by Usagi's fire and offered a quite word to her before moving on his way again. For a moment Ulin's eyes met Usagi's. There was a sense of longing between them – a need to be comforted and to comfort in turn, but also an uncertainty of just how to answer that need.

Ulin lay awake for many hours contemplating the dilemma with no success.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**Continued in Chapter 6b**_


	7. Chapter 6b

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer**:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters, places, and other creative wonders belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them. 6b

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

There were places on Toril that beings of intelligence knew well enough to stay away from. In some cases, these beings of intelligence were forced beyond their control to enter such dangerous environs. All others that dared enter the ruins of once fair Myth Drannor were…how does polite society put it?

"Just plain wrong in the head."

Zuieez V'heron wouldn't necessarily call himself mad - not yet at least. But entering the crumbling confines of the once proud capital of his cousins, alone and with very little in the way of magic to protect or defend himself…well, he didn't feel that it was one of his brighter moments. It had taken all of his cunning and resourcefulness to survive the last several weeks, which was saying quite a bit. He had dodged and skulked, intimidated and blustered, and murdered with abandon – all to stay one step ahead of Kelemvor's Scales; and some how, against all odds, he had succeeded…even if only barely. Thus he lay, cut, bruised, and broken in some places, in a small clearing near a pool of clear water fed by a small stream. He was no closer to his original goal than when he had started this foolhardy quest, and his frustration continued to mount at his failures. All attempts at claiming his goddess had fallen to naught.

During the first week of his hunt he had seen her bleed, as freely as any mortal, after a fierce battle with a pack of demonic hellcats. Their ghostly luminescence had slowly faded as she stood triumphantly over their brutalized bodies, but Zuieez had seen the transience of his goddess and yearned to leash her. Looking back on it, it was a moment of pure prideful stupidity, but an attractive trap to fall prey to nonetheless. She was powerful to be certain, powerful but mortal. And that, he had hoped, would be her undoing.

Over the next four weeks he hunted her, looking for a way amidst the elven ruins to claim her power as his own. It was on the seventh night of the second week that he stumbled upon a cache of spells in an abandoned tomb in the Polyandrium, the second great burial ground for the fallen heroes of Myth Drannor.

To say that it was dangerous magic was an understatement – the scrolls contained a terribly old elven magic that, according to the accompanying text, should have bound this woman, regardless of her plane of origin, to Zuieez body and soul. The price of such power was dear in both body and spirit, and taken three sleepless weeks just to decipher, let alone prepare to cast. Multiple pacts with demons and devils had been made in order to gather the necessary materials and insight…but still the cost of power had been higher than even he had anticipated. He had been forced to give his left eye and three centuries of his long life to gain the catalyst for the spells…but to what end?

Was even the promise of such power worth the price? Zuieez wasn't so sure. Of what use was power, if you didn't live long enough to wield it? Would this goddess even be powerful enough to win back his soul from the demonic brokers he'd dealt with? For the first time in his long life, the drow was filled with regret and uncertainty over the course he'd chosen. Yet, there was little left for him but to follow through with his plan. Now, he sat here with his back against a large walnut tree, hoping for a miracle while fingering the spell focus that had been grafted to his body. The small gem encrusted bracer reeked of power. Each of the eight jewels had something of the goddess trapped within their hearts: Two hairs captured in amber, and six droplets of her divine blood sealed in pink diamonds. All he had to do now was find her and enact the spell, then all his dreams would come true!

The soft sound of leaves rustling overhead drew the drow's eye upward into the shadowy branches of the trees surrounding his small camp. Zuieez cautiously fingered the elegant long sword he'd pilfered from some long dead elf lord's tomb and began mumbling a spell under his breath. The babbling of the nearby brook resounded in his ears as he stretched his senses, looking for the attack that was certain to come. And come it did, but not from any angle he had been anticipating.

There was a light impact atop his head, and then a second later a forceful blur launched his head backwards against the bark of the tree, stunning him. The spell on his lips was lost and Zuieez blindly scrambled to his feet waving his sword in an intricate whirlwind of death that would keep his attacker at bay until his eyes cleared. He immediately began casting another spell over himself, one that would protect him from non-magical weapons. He felt the magic take affect even as his vision cleared.

What he found before him caused his stomach to clench in a knot and his knees to wobble like one of Ghaunadaur's oozing children. It was her! Fully healed and drinking from the brook not eight yards away! He began casting immediately, with little preamble, triggering the layered webs of spells within the bracer that would chain her to him. To his amazement, rather than run or evade, she simply sat and watched him with open curiosity as he unleashed the powerful magic on her. What happened next though, would haunt Zuieez to the end of his days.

A pale violet beam of energy lanced toward the crimson haired goddess, ripping and rending the ground as it closed toward its target. The nude form simply cocked her head and waited for the energy to come to her. Zuieez could only stand there, dumbfounded and bewitched by the moment. The spell had struck and his red headed goddess simply batted and played with the eldritch energies like a cat! The drow's heart soared with malicious glee as the spell web calmly sunk into her body. For an instant her eyes glowed with silver flame, but otherwise there was no outward sign of success or failure.

The spell had to have worked! It had entered her body, just as the text said that it would. But the final manifestation had not happened. There should have been at the very least a golden nimbus present! He should have been able to feel her presence in his mind as well, and yet…he did not. Zuieez drew himself up and called on what little confidence he had left to him to command her as he had his demonic minions of late.

"Hear me, Nameless Goddess! Kneel before me, for I, Zuieez V'heron, now command you!"

Instead of heeding his mandate, the naked figure ignored him. She bent to the brook again to drink and then calmly began to groom herself – licking the back of her hand and rubbing it over her head and face.

Frustration and rage filled him!

He knew he had cast the spell correctly!

"KNEEL! I COMMAND YOU!"

She paused long enough in her grooming to glance at him beneath her wild bangs and twitch her nose.

He tried to command her obedience again. And when that failed, he tried again and again and again. He knew he must look the fool, jumping and stomping in the mud – screaming his damned head off for who knew how long. In the end it didn't matter though.

She finally grew bored with his tantrum and meandered over to a tall shadowtop. There, as casually as you please, she stretched languorously against its trunk maintaining her image of a cat. The sight of her nubile form set his blood afire with need and desire.

He watched in amazement as she shredded the age-old giant with claws made from silver flame on her left hand and black lightning from her right. The mighty tree toppled with a crash, and his red haired goddess casually leapt away into the branches of another tree.

Zuieez felt suddenly, terribly, lost. An emptiness unlike anything he'd ever experienced welled within him. Soon after came the despair.

He had thought himself patient. Most of his race was by necessity, and yet here he was, scrambling for ways to capture this red haired goddess for his own. It was no longer a matter of personal power to him. It was both a principle and a need…a challenge to be proved and a means of self-preservation. His life and soul were on the line. He had to succeed!

Even if it meant destroying her!

After all, if he could not possess her then no one would. The real question now was – could he truly destroy her? In each confrontation they had, she would look at him and those stormy blue eyes would swallow him whole. He could tell that she was toying with him and it was confounding.

He did not enjoy feeling like a mouse.

Her divinity was a paradox, for he had seen her bleeding from wounds time and again. Her numerous battles with the inhabitants of Myth Drannor had been terrible and devastating to the area and the combatants alike. Every attempt on his part to prove that mortality to himself had failed though. The poisonous bloods that she consumed had no effect; the traps her enemies set were sprung with cunning and ease long before they could harm her, and any confrontation was evaded, ignored, or brutally countered.

She was indomitable. He had spoken truly that first night upon seeing her. She was a goddess. And perhaps that was the distinction. Mayhap he was approaching her from the wrong position…. Perhaps supplication would gain him the power he sought, where domination had failed. He balked at the thought in disgust. He had thrown off the yolk of one matriarchy. He did not intend to fall prey to a second – no matter how alluring it might seem.

But, as the hours grew, his aversion to that notion slowly fell before the reality her power.

Zuieez knew his limitations. He was no archmage with access to large stores of power and knowledge that would aid him in destroying or chaining the goddess to him. Nor did he have the luxury of time necessary to become that powerful. His commanders would send out others to search for him the longer he was away, especially considering his long silence. If they didn't find him, the dark denizens of this hellish place eventually would. His luck could only hold out for so long. That only left him one foreseeable option: worship.

She had proved time and again that she was a force to be reckoned with. If he could not beat her, then his only course was to join her. At least she would help him survive. He forced himself to meditate on the thought of bowing himself before this demi-goddess throughout the rest of the day and well into the night.

The distinction between the religion of the drow and this robust goddess was readily apparent. One set had been forced upon him socially at every turn – first by the Spider Kissers, and then by the minions of the Masked Lord – however, this…this was something that he could choose to do for himself. There was no one forcing him at dagger point to follow this path…outside of himself that is. His own stupidity had led him to this impasse – there was no one else to blame. Yet, by accepting responsibility for his folly, he felt liberated. In spite of all of his folly, he had a chance at freedom. All he had to do was swallow his pride and throw himself at her feet. Hopefully she would be merciful and save his hide from the debt he had accrued.

It was an opportunity, which if exercised correctly, would lead him somewhere unknown. Such a thought, while intoxicating, was very much terrifying as well. Would she care, or would she simply walk away from him as she had after he had cast his spell? What would she ask of him? Did it really matter in the end?

The questions lingered, plaguing Zuieez day and night for another ten days. He wandered, surprisingly unhindered throughout the tainted woodlands of Myth Drannor, weighing the value of his life. What he found in the end was awe inspiring – at least for one who had been raised little better than a slave. Plain and simple it was freedom.

On the tenth day of his reverie, the drow smiled, losing himself to the wonder of his discovery and thoughts of his goddess. He would have to find her – the sooner the better. Perhaps she would favor him, and let him touch her…he shivered at the thought and nearly lost himself to the daydream. Something in the air kept him wary though. It was as if the atmosphere were charged with something unnatural.

The first truly physical sign that something was amiss came in the form of a leaf falling on his nose. Zuieez closed his eyes and plucked the offending object from his face. When he opened his eyes though, he found himself staring at his red headed goddess.

His heart rejoiced and he felt tears coming to his eyes! Had she heard his silent prayers and secret desires? Was this a sign of her acceptance? He stared at her, worshiping her with his eyes.

She knelt, panting, in all her feminine glory barely three feet away. A fierce smile grew on her flushed face as she returned the drow's stare. Sweat clung to her like dew and the air around her seemed charged with energy. The sight of her made the drow want to chase lightning and howl at the moon. He could feel his loins stirring and he relished the sensation. He was alive and his new goddess had accepted him! He would live for her and relish every moment and experience she blessed him with. After barely an instant, she turned and sprang away to a low branch overhead and balanced there impossibly for a full minute before taking off again.

It was another sign.

Rapture filled the drow's soul and it wasn't until he felt the next physical sign that he knew something was truly amiss. The ground trembled and the forest fell silent. The hairs on the back of Zuieez V'heron's neck prickled and he felt the sudden need to run. It was a signal he had become very intimate during his stay in these cursed lands. And so he gathered his weapons and pack as quickly as he could and did just what his body was telling him to do – follow his goddess.

Lucky for him.

For not a moment later a riotous mob of demons, devils, various clergy and members from the Cult of the Dragon, a group of adventurers, and a series of Elven Ghosts bore down on his small glade.

Perhaps this was a test.

If he could keep sight of her and avoid death until she ended the test, then he would pass. If he failed, well he was obviously not worthy of her. Zuieez cried out with rapturous joy (or perhaps terror – he wasn't exactly certain) and tried his best to keep the crimson blur in his sights.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Ranma-neko was glad that the little black "he" had decided to finally join her fun. He hadn't been enjoying himself lately and she was tired of watching him brood. She had to make sure that she kept sight of him though; it wouldn't do to have one of her only real play mates getting squished by so many of the tainted ones. Ranma-neko sighed and slowed her pace.

She was going to have to end her latest romp sooner than expected. They had been corrupting her land and spirit long enough. Maybe she would challenge the fiery Black Heart first. His stink was almost as bad as rotting Blight Tongue, and his pack had been tainting the rivers near her home this morning.

Yes. She would be rid of fiery Black Heart first, and then she would focus on the Burning Ones. They were much stupider and would be easy kills. After they were done, she would approach the Blight Tongue. Her pack was much larger, and they were attacking the worldblood. The sooner she dealt with those creatures the better.

It was going to be a busy day. Ranma-neko sighed and shook her head. Tomorrow, she was going to find a nice sunny rock and be lazy. No hunting the twisted ones, no playing with silly cubs.

Oh! Look! There was the grumpy see-through-she. Time for Ranma-neko to invite her to play….

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

If Braerindra, the last of House of Calauth, could curse her fate she would have. Being a Sentinel of the Coronal House and the Coronal Person had long since lost its appeal – pointedly because both had died long ago. She had watched as the Armies of the Khov'Annilessa – the Trio Nefarious, laid waste to her beloved city.

The nycaloths and their demonic armies had pressed siege against her homeland and driven her people away. Yet she remained, alone and unremembered, guarding a patch of soil and sod filled with little more than worm food from the hands of despoilers. Still, this was the life she had chosen for herself and she was determined to endure it to the end. She missed the days of old though. She missed Eltargrim and Josidiah. She missed Elminster and those rare few others that had visited her in her long vigil. Their memories were becoming fleeting now, and Braerindra knew that what little was left of her mind was slowly collapsing under the weight of her eternal vigilance.

She still remembered her charge though and executed it diligently; much to the dismay and hatred of those few demons and treasure hunters that tried to breach her protectorate. The only entity that had dared approach her of late was that poor, insane, red haired elf maid. She would come and stare at Braerindra for hours on end, neither crossing the Sentinel Ghost's threshold nor approaching the guardian.

It was frustrating to be subject to such a mockery. Nothing pained her more, than to see the blood of her people reduced to such a mindless state. Braerindra snorted, as best as a ghost could and rolled her ethereal eyes at the sight of an unruly mop of bright red hair.

"Speak of the devil and she appears."

The guardian spirit sighed and contemplated the feral elfmaid. There was something incredibly…off…about the child. She had a power about her that dwarfed anything Braerindra had ever encountered. And yet, the child, although feral, still seemed all too mortal in spite of the power that slept within her. Perhaps she was a demi-goddess, or a powerful sorceress that had fallen prey to a bad spell or curse. The watch ghost shook her ethereal head and set the mystery aside. The ghostly sentinel knew her questions wouldn't be answered anytime soon, but she had all of eternity to uncover the truth, or at least until the elfmaid decided to stop visiting her grove.

Braerindra suddenly blinked at a tremor that rippled through the fine web of magics that she commanded. Her ghostly eyes widened in horror at the horde of evil fell upon her position. Demons and Devils alike entered the grove, followed closely by a mismatched group of drow and humanoids, all of them screaming and cursing in their attempts to reach their red haired prey. To her surprise the maid sprang behind a number of broken columns and then scurried rapidly around yet another small mountain of rubble, finally turning and positioned herself in the shadow of a large stone that had once been a part of the Coronal's favorite gazebo. The cat-like elfmaid crouched low to the ground and stilled suddenly, waiting patiently until her target maneuvered itself into the proper position.

Braerindra watched in silent approval as the maid literally pounced on the lead Cornugon as it cleared the ruined slab and slashed at the demon's throat with her closed fist. Magic flared in the Sentinel's ghostly mind, and the Cornugon's head fell clean from its shoulders. The maid bounced on, clearing another pile of rubble as her kill slowly fell to the ground. The Cornugon's body writhed, fighting its inevitable demise and thrashing all within range with its fiery whip. The body exploded soon after, taking many of the small mob's number with it to the grave.

The maid hadn't lingered idle while her first foe perished. She had maneuvered herself into another strategic position and pounced on the confused throng with wild abandon. She slashed mercilessly into the left flank of the damned, sending body parts, acidic blood and all manner of gore flying in all directions. And all the while, her face bore a wild, carefree smile. Middling and minor demons fell left and right, scored by the maid's magical talons. Her feral hissing and yowling spurred the Sentinel to act, as the first of the horde was finally driven over the threshold of her protectorate.

Braerindra stepped forward and unleashed her magic upon the disorganized group of infernals, humans, and drow. Demons and devils alike fell to her holy spells and her mighty sword. Chaos reigned. Infighting exploded amongst the Tanar'ri and Baatsu, and the human cultists and drow followed suit.

It was bedlam.

Magical traps that had lain dormant for centuries exploded to life, rending body and spirit alike amongst the host of evil. Braerindra had no concept of how long the battle had lasted, but in the end the advance had been broken and the red haired girl had moved on, taking one or two of the remaining host with her. The others looked around at the destruction and quietly left, rather than continue the fruitless quest for the feral elfmaid's life. Braerindra couldn't blame them. The Sentinel looked at the blasted burning earth and the bloody carnage surrounding her and shook her head.

At the very least it hadn't been a boring day.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Highden**

In the weeks since the engine test, Keiichi had moved on to working on the frame and suspension while Duncan "prettied up" the sewing machine. In the time that it had taken Keiichi to finish all the calculations and drawings, Duncan, Sam, and Bertrold had taken the finished product to some place called Waterdeep. Upon their return, Duncan had orders for fifteen machines and a grin a mile wide. It was nothing next to Bertrold 's though. The gnome looked positively ecstatic.

Between the two projects, the shop was constantly busy. Duncan and Bertrold had hired a skilled, yet very shy young gnome by the name of Ruthart Gambool to help fill the sewing machine orders while Keiichi worked on the frame of the "Iron Horse." The orders were filled in record time, and had been shipped to Waterdeep with Bertrold seven days past – giving Keiichi, Duncan, and Ruthart the extra time they needed to finish the last of the touches on the "Horse" before their patron's return. Duncan seemed overly eager to surprise Bertrold with a working model before his return in two days time. It had been a grueling task, reminding Keiichi of his days with Ootaki and Tamiya. In the end though, the satisfaction he felt made the long nights worth it.

The day of truth arrived clear, bright, and beautiful. Sister Maerdith arrived early to help Sam with breakfast and chores so that they would have extra time to spend watching the test; while Keiichi, Duncan, and Ruthart made some last minute checks and adjustments to the "Iron Horse" before the trial. As the morning wore on, Sam was forced to serve breakfast in the shop in order to get "her boys" to eat something substantial. It was a tough task to pull them away from the last minute touches they were making, but the heavenly smells of Sam' rolls won over the trio in the end.

"How far do you want to go?" Keiichi asked as he popped the last bit of cinnamon roll into his mouth. Sister Maerdith had been pleased at the improvements that his grammar was making. Keiichi was happy too. He hated sounding stupid.

"Depends I guess." Duncan said. The lack of commitment in his voice betrayed his nervousness. "Let's see how she handles between here and Grinder Street."

Keiichi nodded and motioned for Ruthart to open the shop's main door. The young gnome jumped from his stool eagerly and ran to the sliding door with barely contained excitement. Keiichi and Duncan finally made their way out of the shop carefully pushing the Iron Horse over the hard packed earth of the stable yard. The weight was extremely heavy, even after Keiichi's innovations of creating a hollow frame. They had been unable to find a suitable material for the wheels, so in the end Duncan had crafted metal and wood rings to fit on the outside of the spoke rim. Keiichi had made a last minute addition, in the form of a sidecar, just after Bertrold had left for Waterdeep in order to aid in the bike's balance and stability.

As the pair moved the primitive motorcycle out of the stable yard and onto the main road, a crowd began to gather. Keiichi saw a number of familiar faces from the temple of Ohgma, including Learned Father Ellosin and Brother Evandur. Young Lord Ferin Gullywarden was there too, as were his henchmen, standing next to a wealthy dressed gnome bearing a golden symbol of Gond hanging predominantly from a chain over his heart. The gnome laughed at something Ferin said and shook his head.

Keiichi turned his attention back to Duncan and Ruthart focusing his attention on navigating the bike into position. The pair bowed their heads and began to murmur a prayer to Gond.

"BEST TO GET ALL THE HELP YOU CAN WHILE YOU CAN, EH STEELWATER?" Ferin's voice echoed above the noise of the crowd. A slight wave of laughter rolled through the crowd.

"MAYBE HE'S PREPARING HIS SOUL, JUST IN CASE." Keiichi didn't know whose voice that was, but it lit a fire in his belly. It garnered more laughter through the crowds this time, but Keiichi ignored the mocking as best he could in favor of listening to Duncan's gruff prayer.

"Oh hallowed Wonderbringer, we yer servants and friends come to ye beneath the eyes of the sun, to honor ye and ask fer yer blessings on our craft. I thank ye humbly fer bringing me wife Sam and me new friends Keiichi and Ruthart inta me life. They've helped bring this dream ter bear this fruit. May our actions and its function bring ye future glories and further the Craft. Function above Form."

Keiichi waited for the "amen" that never came. Duncan simply reached into the sidecar and pulled out two metal helms with padded interiors that Keiichi had asked him to craft. He handed one to Keiichi and then pulled the other over his own head. More laughter came from the steadily growing crowd, but by this time, Keiichi didn't hear them. He looked heavenward and whispered his own little prayer.

"Bell-chan, if you can hear me, please let this go well for Duncan. He's worked hard for this."

Duncan slid into the sidecar and Keiichi straddled the bike. With a wave and a grim smile to Sam, Maerdith, Ruthart, and surprisingly an out of breath Bertrold, Keiichi kick started the engine. There was a great "BANG!" that caused everyone in the crowd to step back, but when the engine didn't explode Sam and the others began to clap enthusiastically. Keiichi looked down to Duncan and smiled at the manic grin the dwarf had plastered on his face. The sound of the engine reverberated up and down the street, drawing even more people to watch the spectacle unfold. Keiichi's smile soon surpassed Duncan's. It had been ages since he'd felt a powerful motor beneath him.

He gunned the engine and engaged the clutch, which in turn caused the wheels to tear into the hard packed dirt. The "Iron Horse" roared and upon finally finding the traction it needed, shot down the street. There was a mighty cheer from the crowd, but even that could not drown out Duncan's surprised cursing. Keiichi just whooped for joy and increased his speed, completely by passing Grinder Street altogether.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Yartar Road**

On the outskirts of the town of Hemmerling

Usagi watched the modest group walking down the road towards the main encampment. From the serious set in Ulin's face and the set of Conner's shoulders, the first round of negotiations with the mayor of Hemmerling hadn't gone very well. They'd set up camp on the outskirts of the town in a thick stand of trees near a modest river. The refugees had spread themselves throughout the grove, making impromptu tents and lean-tos in order to shelter against the occasional rain that had cooled the growing heat of summer. And in spite of their numbers, the camp remained relatively clean and well organized. Ulin had commented early on that they needed to make the best impression possible, if the negotiations were to be successful.

Behind Ulin's company, rode the Hemmerling delegation, looking all very stoic and important. The man she assumed to be the mayor rode a well-muscled brown horse, with white socks. The animal and the man had much in common from Usagi's point of view. He, like the horse, was large, and barrel-chested with tanned skin and sharp eyes. He had the look and manner of a veteran warrior, as did the small contingent riding around him. Usagi let her eyes drift over each face in turn, until she'd found the other two people she'd been looking for. Shandri and Viet trailed the procession, but seemed more interested in stealing glances at each other than anything else. Usagi couldn't help but smile at that. At least the day wouldn't be a total loss.

As the procession drew near, Usagi and a few members of the camp drifted out to meet them. Faim and Marcus, an elderly couple, stood to her right while Heb shadowed Usagi's left flank. Faim and Marcus were one of the many that had followed Usagi from Moerstead, while Heb had been with Usagi since the mines. The thin man spoke very little and tended to brood quite a bit, and when Usagi drew near he would all but run from her presence in fear and shame. She was certain that he was having trouble dealing with everything that had happened since the mines and was content to allow him his space. Someday he would stop running and Usagi knew that she would make her shoulder available for him when he did. Usagi was drawn from her contemplations as the procession finally drew close.

Ulin took a deep, albeit discreet, breath before making introductions.

"Mayor Raelin Thistlebuck, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Lady Usagi Tsukino, the leader of this camp."

Usagi shot Ulin a hidden glare as she bowed to Raelin. The action seemed to unnerve the men from Hemmerling for some reason, but Usagi ignored their reactions in favor of trying to remember the speech Ulin had made her memorize before going into town.

"It is an honor to welcome you to our camp, Mayor Thistlebuck. We offer you safety and protection during your visit, and hope you will draw comfort from our hospitality." She bowed again hiding a sudden attack of nerves.

"It pleases me to accept your hospitality, Lady Tsukino." The man's voice was, if anything, deeper and richer than Usagi had expected – so too was the warm smile he wore. It seemed incongruous with the attitude Ulin was displaying. The group dismounted, allowing Shandri and Viet to lead the horses to a picket line nearby.

"May I offer you and your men refreshments?" Usagi motioned Faim and Marcus forward to a table of saplings that had been lashed together and propped on four, short but thick, stumps. It was a very traditional Japanese set up, having a number of thick pillows that Ulin had conjured surrounding the short table. A tea service and a meager lunch of fish, berries and nuts were laid out for their guests.

The setup didn't seem to impress the majority of the delegation from Hemmerling, but the group settled themselves without comment. Tea was served and small talk was quickly exhausted. Usagi could feel the conversation taking a more serious turn, and she felt anxiety well up within her – moreso when Raelin Thistlebuck fully turned his attention to her. He, along with a number of his party, had been stealing glances at her throughout the small meal, but tried not to make too much of them. She knew he was sizing her up, and she didn't like the feel of it at all. On the other hand, his attentions were preferable to others.

One of Raelin's company, a fat man by the name of Rodbury Hearthman, did little to hide the lust in his eyes every time he glanced her way. There was also another man that set her nerves on edge for an entirely different reason. Olin Breambur's eyes never left Usagi throughout the initial pleasantries, and whenever she looked in them, she could feel a malevolence hidden just beneath the surface. For not the first time, Usagi wondered at the wisdom of continuing these negotiations.

"Lady Tsukino…" Usagi lifted her gaze from her plate in response to Raelin Thistlebuck's voice.

"Please, call me Usagi." She smiled brightly, trying not to shiver.

"Mistress Usagi…in light of the time, I think it best that we move on to matters of business. The road home is long for some us, and I'd feel better if these men were back before dark."

"I completely understand." Usagi set aside her teacup and folded her hands at the edge of the table. "I assume, from the look on Ulin's face, that you will be unable or unwilling to give us leave to settle our group in Hemmerling."

This humble, yet blunt tactic derailed Raelin's thoughts completely. He simply nodded.

"I can understand your hesitation. I think my family would feel uneasy if a large group of strangers suddenly showed up on our doorstep. We will just have to look else where."

Raelin looked extremely uncomfortable.

"Please don't think us unkindly…"

Usagi waved her hands. Ulin had explained that this would be the most likely outcome, and it had given Usagi more than enough time to formulate a response.

"Not at all! We don't want to upset your community any more than we have." Usagi paused thoughtfully and then smiled sweetly, turning on the charm full tilt. "Could we possibly trouble you for some supplies and permission to pass through your town?"

Rodbury Hearthman spoke up before Raelin could answer. "Supplies don't come free, Mistress Usagi. I'm certain that you can appreciate that everyone's got to make a living." Heb, who had been standing discreetly at the edge of the gathering, began to fidget. Usagi noted that his eyes were narrowed and that his hands kept reaching into his sleeves.

"Of course Master Rodbury. We wouldn't dream of looking for charity." Usagi strained to remember this part of Ulin's coaching. "We don't have much in the way of currency, but we do have skills and labor to trade."

"I'm sure you do." Rodbury licked his lips hungrily, looking Usagi's body up and down. Raelin opened his mouth to call the man on his offensive behavior, but Heb beat him to it. A well-balanced throwing knife imbedded itself into the table in front of the fat merchant, drawing everyone's eyes momentarily. The distraction was enough to allow Heb to slip through Rodbury's strongmen and place the blade of his second dagger at the man's throat.

"HEB! NO!" Usagi was on her feet instantly, eyes wide with panic. Ulin was already preparing a spell that would hopefully paralyze Heb before he could finish his stroke. It proved unnecessary though. The moment Usagi spoke Heb's knives disappeared up his sleeve and he backed off. His eyes never left Rodbury, even though four large men bearing steel now encircled him.

"I'm so sorry, Master Rodbury!" Usagi was panicking, but the fat merchant seemed even more shaken. He kept dabbing his throat, and Usagi noted that his fingers came away red. She looked to Ulin frantically, uncertain what to do. "I can heal Master Rodbury's wound…"

"There is no need for an apology, Mistress Usagi." All eyes turned to Raelin. "Rodbury was out of line and your man called him on it. I think the prick he received was duely earned. Perhaps now, he will learn his place."

"I hope this won't hurt our friendship, Master Raelin."

"A man protects the honor of a Lady. It only shows that you are well loved by your people. On the contrary, it should be us begging your forgiveness." Raelin glared at Rodbury darkly, but the man was still in shock and took no note of the Mayor's words.

"That's not necessary…" Usagi kept stealing glances at Ulin, looking for guidance, but the Genasi's attention was pinned on Heb. The poor man looked torn between running away and driving his dagger into Rodbury's back. She motioned for the man to come to her and was surprised to see that he obeyed her summons. The growing tensions relaxed immediately.

"It is necessary, Mistress Usagi. Rodbury's comportment was inexcusable and he will find a way to make amends." This statement finally broke through the merchant's addled brain.

"You've no right Raelin!" Raelin ignored Rodbury's outburst.

"You will make amends, Hearthman – a formal apology here and now, as well as personally seeing to Lady Tsukino's needs. If you cannot swallow your pride, then the town council will seize your store and your lands as payment for your offense." Raelin looked around to the other men in his party and all nodded as one.

"I will not apologize to this little girl when I've done nothing wrong!" Rodbury protested.

"Hold your tongue, Hearthman! Your offensive comportment and innuendos have jeopardized the safety of our community!"

"We wouldn't have…" Ulin squeezed Usagi's knee and shook her head, cutting off further comment.

"I refuse!" It was obvious that Rodbury thought Raelin was bluffing.

"That saddens me, Master Hearthman." Raelin motioned to the men guarding Rodbury's back, who in turn seized his arms and drug him away from the table. The fat man kicked, screamed, and threatened. Raelin turned his attention back to Usagi and calmly continued as if nothing had happened. Usagi felt sick inside.

"Please forgive the people of Hemmerling, Lady Tsukino. I extend my humblest apologies on behalf of Rodbury Hearthman, and offer up his holdings as restitution for his gross breach of etiquette." Usagi immediately started to decline the offer, but Ulin beat her to the punch.

"On behalf of Lady Tsukino, we humbly accept your apology Lord Mayor and extend our own apology for the unfortunate events that have happened here. We will aid in the coming harvest of summer wheat and present our services to anyone else who stands in need of our skills before moving on."

Raelin nodded and extended his hand to Usagi. She accepted the gesture, but glared at Ulin discretely when Raelin and the rest of his company stood to leave. Ulin brushed the look aside, motioning Usagi to stand as well.

"We thank you for your generosity, Mistress Usagi. It would please me greatly if you and your retainers would join us for a feast later in the week."

Ulin had to nudge Usagi to focus her attention back to the Mayor and his retinue.

"That would be wonderful, Master Raelin." Usagi bowed to the group again.

"Excellent. I will leave Marcus here to show you to your new estates." Usagi tried very hard not to frown. "We can finalize plans for the feast tomorrow perhaps."

Usagi nodded as the group took their leave then, with Rodbury Hearthman under close guard. Conner took Marcus in hand, leading him to a small campfire nearby to talk while the word about the move was quickly spread among the camp. When they were safely out of sight, Usagi spun on Ulin before she could escape.

"What the heck was that about Ulin?"

"We'll discuss it later, Usagi." She started to turn away, but Usagi pulled her up short.

"No. I don't think so. We'll discuss it now! Why did you accept his offer?"

"It was restitution, Usagi."

"Because Hearthman was being a pervert? That's not a crime! Sure he was a creepy little jerk, but that didn't mean he had to be punished so severely." Ulin sighed and shook her head.

"You miss the point, Usagi. Hearthman was punished because he jeopardized the community with his offense."

"What do you mean 'jeopardized' – did they really think that a bunch of men, women, and children were going to come in and wipe them out? That's just stupid!"

Ulin shook her head again.

"I think that there is a history here that we are unaware of. Be that as it may, Raelin knew that we didn't look like a threat, but your fame has somehow out paced us. The 'Silver Princess' is known to these people and some of the rumors being whispered among the townsfolk have obviously reached Raelin's ears."

Usagi blinked. Rumors?

"What are they saying about me?"

Ulin grinned impishly.

"Each story is wilder than the first, but it is certain that Raelin is being cautious for the sake of his community. To some you are a goddess or the child of a goddess. Others believe you are one of the Seven Sisters and that this camp is an enchanted army marching north to join with Alustriel and Silverymoon to secure the Silver Marches. I heard one boy whispering to his sister that you were a beautiful witch, come to steal all the little girls away from the town to feed to your pet dragon."

Faim and Marcus snickered, as did Shandri and Viet. Usagi stuck her tongue out at them.

"You mean that they're scared…of me?" Usagi tried to wrap her mind around the concept.

"I wouldn't say that, Usagi. Raelin is erring on the side of caution. From what I gather, he was an adventurer prior to settling in Hemmerling. He's seen his share of oddities, and rather than endanger those he's sworn to protect he's doing what he thinks is best for the community. He eliminated a powerful rival of questionable morals, placated your honor and need for charity by giving us Hearthman's lands, and resolved the situation so that his people aren't in any danger."

"I still don't like it, Ulin. It doesn't feel right. We wouldn't have done anything to the people of Hemmerling."

"Perhaps you wouldn't, but can you honestly speak for the rest of the camp? If Heb felt compelled to act, what would some of the others done? No, I think Raelin was right in dealing with Hearthman as he did. The man was positively vile."

"What do you think will happen to Mister Hearthman? I don't like the idea that he doesn't have a home or a way to feed himself."

"Something tells me that he will be fine, Usagi. Men like Hearthman are resourceful."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"I still don't like this. What are we going to do with an estate?"

"Not 'we' Usagi, you. Raelin gave the estate to you. Do whatever you want with it. Depending on the size, we have a place for the rest of these people to live now. If that's not what you want, sell it to someone, give it away, burn it to the ground. It doesn't really matter."

Usagi sighed and shook her head. The pair started walking back to the camp.

"I can't deal with this."

"Welcome to life, Dear Heart. It only gets harder from here on out."

"Promise me something?"

"I'll do my best."

"Talk to me before you go accepting any more apologies for me."

Ulin laughed and nodded.

"As you say, my Princess."

"That's not funny, Ulin." Usagi glowered. "I'm not your ruler."

"As you say your majesty."

"I mean it, Ulin." Usagi groused.

"Am I to be fed to your dragon then?"

"I can't." Usagi matched Ulin's impish grin.

"Oh, and why is that?"

"You're my dragon!" Usagi gave the jade skinned sorceress the red-eye before hiking her skirts and running, Ulin hot on her heels. The busy camp was filled with a great deal of laughter as children immediately joined in the fun.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Highden**

Keiichi and Duncan jabbered excitedly with Bertrold as they wheeled the Iron Horse into the shop. The afternoon sun was hot and the shadows were growing long. Ruthart, who had been the last to receive a ride in the sidecar, had a dazed look on his face. Every once in a while he would steel glances at Keiichi, before looking back at the Horse in awe.

Everyone that had been a part of the project had gotten a chance to ride in the sidecar, and only Sister Maerdith seemed less than enthused with the innovative contraption. Duncan had been so excited that he'd demanded that Keiichi tour the town until they had drained the fuel tank dry. Sam had ridden double with her husband, relishing in the freedom his dream gave. Overall Keiichi felt pleased with their achievement, but he also felt that the speed could be improved. They'd barely reached and sustained thirty kilometers an hour after the initial run, which meant that the fuel mixture could stand to be tweaked. He had little to no experience with fuel chemistry outside of the auto club, but that didn't mean he wasn't willing to learn. In the mean time, Keiichi was trying to talk Bertrold into funding a utility vehicle.

"Well, met Builder Steelwater." The smooth voice jarred the group from their thoughts. Keiichi immediately recognized the well-dressed gnome from earlier. He wore official saffron-colored robes, with cogs and gears decorating the hem and sleeves. His face sported a neatly trimmed and oiled, black goatee and mustache that curled back on themselves. Keiichi was immediately reminded of Sayoko's snobbish accomplice, Aoshima Toshiyuki.

"I believe congratulations are in order."

"Evening to you too, Artificer Mostana. What can we do fer you?"

"I simply came to pay my respects and to get a closer look at the wondrous machine you've crafted."

"My thanks fer your respects Artificer, but I can't be takin' all the credit here." Duncan patted Keiichi and Ruthart on the shoulders warmly. "Master Keiichi and young Ruthart here are just as worthy of your praise, and Master Bendlebranch financed our efforts."

"Is there no room for Gond in your praise, Builder?" More than one face scowled at the implication made, but beyond a slight frown Duncan didn't seem all that phased by the dig.

"Gond is the heart of every creation I make, Artificer. I give him every glory and all the honor. He gave me the inspiration, and the means ta bring it ta life."

"As you say. All praise to Gond." Mostana's smile became, if possible, even more oily than before.

"All praise to Gond." Duncan, Sam, and Ruthart echoed.

Mostana approached the Iron Horse, gently nudging Ruthart out of the way in order to gain a better view of the engine. His eyes drifted between Keiichi and Sister Maerdith, causing Keiichi's skin to crawl. He immediately knew that this priest was going to make life difficult for Duncan.

"I must confess that I am a bit confused, Steelwater. This curious design was not submitted to the Patent Office, nor do I see any documentation for the project or official offering. Pray tell, where are the symbols of your praise?"

"The symbols of me praise are in me heart Artificer. The project's been documented from the start, and me plans for the Horse are secured in a safe place. As fer filin' the patent, we ain't had the time. When Gond's spirit falls on you, you don't pause to play with the bureaucracy. You act." Duncan's face became harder and harder with each word, and by the end Keiichi could see Duncan's fists trembling.

"As you say." Mostana said smoothly. "However, that does bring up the issue of the offering. I cannot believe that you were too busy to completely ignore tradition."

"We were working on two projects at the same time!" Ruthart exclaimed. Keiichi was surprised at the young gnome's sudden display of backbone. It was clear from the look on Duncan's face that the boy had put his foot in it.

"Two projects you say?"

"Aye." Duncan growled. "Young master Keiichi developed the Handless Seamtress, and I was helping him along."

"Ah, yes." Mostana's eyes swiveled to Keiichi, who immediately squared his shoulders. "A brilliant display of primitive craftsmanship. I've heard great things coming out of Waterdeep about this…Handless Seamstress of yours. I am puzzled though, Builder Steelwater, where are the plans, patents, and offering for this creation?"

"Master Keiichi ain't a Gondar, Artificer."

"But you are, Builder Steelwater."

"That doesn't mean that I'm going to steal his thunder!" Duncan growled. "It was Keiichi's innovation, I just prettied it up some."

"The fact that you were involved in the creation of the project is grounds for submitting the creation to the church." Mostana said smoothly, looking all the while at Keiichi. "Any friend of the faith, regardless of their…beliefs or affiliations, would happily help a friend honor his god."

"Keiichi's helped me honor me god just fine, Artificer. I'm not going to pressure him or rob him of his creation."

"It seems that your priorities have been misplaced, Builder Steelwater. You haven't even made the second offering. Does this mean you've completely forsaken tradition in the heat of Creation?"

"Me priorities ain't your concern, Mostana. When the project's perfected, then I'll make a second. Anything more's a waste of time and materials."

"Some would say that it is a sign of the truly devoted."

"Others say it's a sign of the truly stupid." Duncan growled.

"Are you questioning my faith, Builder Steelwater?"

"Are ye questionin' mine, Artificer?" The two squared off for a moment, neither giving ground until Keiichi started to step forward. Haroun looked the young man over critically and pursed his lips.

"I expect to see the plans in the Patent Office by the end of the week Master Steelwater."

"You'll get what I give ya, when I give it, Artificer. Not a moment before." Duncan growled.

"See here!"

Keiichi and the others gathered in the shop shifted uncomfortably.

"NO! You 'see here', Haroun Mostana!" The black haired gnome's curly mustache bristled as Duncan drove his stout finger into the priest's chest. "I ain't one o' yer toadies ta be orderin' around! Ye done run'd me outta th' temple fer being a dwarf. Ye took me ideas half-baked fer yerself an' ruined 'em afore I had th' chance ta perfect 'em like they should'a been. Ya come an' insult me guest and friends with yer prattle. Ya even tried tellin' me how ta worship me god!" Each point was driven home roughly, leaving Haroun massaging his chest. "Now get yerself from me shop! I got more important things ta occupy me time than listenin' ta the likes o' yerself spoutin' hot air."

When Haroun didn't immediately move, Duncan veritably exploded.

"Ya fool peacock, are ye deaf as well as dumb? I SAID GET!"

The oily gnome squeaked as the dwarf lunged at him bodily. He scampered back a few steps awkwardly and fell flat on his bottom, much to the enjoyment of those gathered. Keiichi reflexively snorted a laugh at the sight, but quickly turned away and pretended to study the seat of the Iron Horse. He could easily feel the blistering gaze that Haroun pinned him with, but didn't acknowledge it in the least.

"You'll regret this, Steelwater!" Haroun growled. "I promise you that!"

"The only thing that I'm ta be regrettin' is not kickin' yer teeth in, Mostana. Ye made me say it twice, but if I have ta say it a third time," Duncan brandished his fists. "…I ain't gonna waste th' air ta be getting' me point across!"

Haroun scrambled from the workshop as fast as his puny legs would carry him. Keiichi laughed when he was certain that the gnome was gone.

"You made him run like a rabbit!" The young man skipped his palms across one another quickly, imitating Haroun's rapid departure.

"Aye lad. That I did." Duncan said heavily as he slumped down on to a stool at a workbench. But at what cost?" Sam drifted over and rubbed her hands up and down Duncan's arms. The dwarf let his face fall in his hands tiredly and then ran his fingers through his hair.

"This is…how do you say…? No good?" Keiichi asked, pulling another, shorter stool up beside Duncan.

"No, lad. No good at all." Duncan wasn't sure how he could explain to the boy what he was feeling at the moment, let alone the complexity of life within the Temples of Gond. He had, after years of segregation and abuse, finally said what needed to be said. Sadly, he'd said the words in anger and to the wrong person no less! The gnome that needed to hear his speech wasn't Haroun Mostana. If anyone needed to hear the words, it was the First Artificer Flindel Gullywarden. Now, Duncan wasn't certain he'd ever get the chance. There might be a chance at the Festival of Creation, but he'd have a hard time getting Gullywarden alone.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Myth Drannor was a place of conflict. The trapped forces of the Infernal armies made certain that the once beautiful lands remained deadly for any who dared trespass. A being needed a great deal of power and luck to survive here, but for many the rewards outweighed the numerous dangers. The Phaerimm were one such group. Unfortunately, the luck of one of their number had apparently run out. The fact that it was being hunted by one of its own mattered little. More often not, greater threats and treachery came from a being's own peers, rather than from the land round about Myth Drannor.

X'Xili'Shick, twisted its body away from its opponent's spell, barely avoiding the chain lightning that danced through the small alley it had flown into. X'Xili'Shick had underestimated Thuruolep's preparedness and was now paying the full price for it's misjudgment.

To describe X'Xili'Shick and its opponent, Thuruolep, one only had to imagine a large green cone shaped body and a sea anemone for a head. Four spindly arms protruded at four cardinal points beneath a maw of needle like teeth. Its tail ended in a wicked, poisonous barb and a palpable aura of magic and evil intent surrounded them. Even to the most jaded of eyes these creatures would look alien and fearful. Most people in the Realms had no idea of the existence of the Phaerimm, which was exactly as it should be. As a race, the Phaerimm weren't ready for their existence to be common knowledge yet. Had the rest of the Realms any clue that these creatures still existed, there would be little effort wasted in seeking them out and destroying them with immense prejudice.

Thus X'Xili'Shick and the other Phaerimm within the boundaries of Myth Drannor had taken great care to keep their presence a secret. But considering the number of combating interests within the dead city, that secret was certainly a well-known fact by now. Such was the key cause for this conflict between X'Xili'Shick and Thuruolep.

X'Xili'Shick had told the rest of the Phaerimm in their company that it was time to strike against the Sharn, their sworn enemies, and free the rest of their kind from their prison beneath the Anaurach. It had put forth its reasons, saying that surely the surface races knew of their presence now, and if they were to succeed, they needed to move quickly before they lost the element of surprise completely. After all, the small group of eight had gathered more than enough magic to accomplish this feat.

While X'Xili'Shick's position was sound, the others in the conclave had accused him of cowardice and sedition. Thuruolep had been the chief voice among X'Xili'Shick's enemies and as such was given the honor of putting the upstart in his place. X'Xili'Shick on the other hand, was not intent on backing down or being chastised by the others. He knew he was right, and he was committed to winning this confrontation to prove it.

Luck, it seemed, was on the side of the insubordinate Phaerimm – appearing in the form of a naked, red-haired elfmaid leading a small handful of Infernals, drow, and a few Dragon Cultists into the midst of their duel. Magic flew with chaotic abandon and destructive spells tore into the ruined surroundings of the plaza that X'Xili'Shick had drawn his opponent to. The Palace of the Coronal stood menacingly above the conflict, shrouded in mists and looking for all world to be an ancient judge, waiting to pass a heavy sentence upon those desecrating its land. To the surprise of the Phaerimm, the agent of that verdict seemed to be the fiery elfmaid that was viciously tearing into the remnant of the Infernal war party.

A Vrock was literally split in twain and a Zovvut's pale, three-eyed head was sheared from its shoulders and fell to the ground in a number of bloody sections. The lone Baatezu left among the remaining mixed Infernal band, a large black armored Malebranche, charged forward with it's wickedly barbed trident held ready to run its opponent through. The elf leaped incredibly high and landed lightly on Thuruolep, using X'Xili'Shick's opponent as a shield and a perch.

X'Xili'Shick watched gleefully as the devil took flight in response to its prey's dodge. Unfortunately, Thuruolep was able to get a spell off before the Baatezu impaled it. The flood of acid pouring from the Phaerimm's wounds and the point blank explosion of the fireball consumed the devil's upper body, leaving it little more than a molten slag of twisted black metal. Its wings were pitted so badly that there was little hope that it could have remained aloft even if it had survived the initial attack. Thuruolep, while badly wounded, was not dead…curse the luck.

The elfmaid wasted little time in waiting for her living shield to recover from the Baatezu's attack. She tore into the abomination with mystical talons, eviscerating X'Xili'Shick's enemy with vicious abandon. The doomed Phaerimm's telepathic scream echoed throughout the heart of Myth Drannor, alerting a number of other entities of its demise. The commotion drew the rest of the Phaerimm company from the safety of the sidelines forcing them to commit to the battle in order to destroy this new threat to their sovereignty. Demon, drow, and dragon-sworn all fell into the bloody bedlam centered on an elf-witch who fought with such power and ferocity, that any who dared approach fell dead at her feet.

The magic that she wielded was more powerful than anything X'Xili'Shick had ever experienced. She seemed to absorb spells directed at her and any physical attack was either dodged or swatted away with little effort at all. More troubling still were the conflicting energies that arced up and down her lithe form. There was no mistaking the telltale signs of both the Shadow Weave and Mystra's Silverfire. The true mystery was how this elf had come by these abilities. Even as X'Xili'Shick pondered this odd paradox, the subject of his speculation blazed into being before his mind's eye. For the barest of instants, the Phaerimm's mind touched hers and was swallowed by a sea of stars. Unlike his enemy, X'Xili'Shick did not have an opportunity to cry out as Ranma's shadow covered hand literally shredded his body and spirit.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Khindristryx watched the battle from the safety of the pool chamber, as she had so very often over the last few weeks. The waters of the pool itself served as a focus for her scrying. Once she had learned of the elfmaid's presence from her priests, she immediately settled in to watch this being and weigh her potential threat. At first, she thought the red haired menace to be a wild elf Beast Channeler; intent on revenging herself on those that had tainted this once beautiful land.

Upon further examination and as the current battle had progressed onward, the dracolich had watched in awe and horror as the elfmaid decimated any opponent that dared approach. An idea of just who…or rather what this small being was, settled home and left the former green dragon nervously clawing at the stone along the edge of the pool. Had the skeletal monstrosity still had a stomach, it would have quivered in fear. The petite elf's body was wreathed in silver flames and black lightning danced around her eyes and mouth. The Phaerimm's numbers had been whittled from eight strong to three, before she allowed them to retreat in order to focus on the Death Slaad that one of the Tanar'ri had summoned.

The elf raked her fist across the air, leaving a trail of silver flames in the wake of her motion, and across the field of battle the Death Slaad exploded in a pillar of hoary fire. The Tanar'ri that had gated in the beast broke from the battle and started running towards the Coronal's Palace. It had taken all of four steps before the maiden had pounced on its back and unleashed a storm of black and purple fire. The gore dredged up by her assault sent black blood flying like rain across the flagstones of the plaza. Wherever the blood fell, the ground hissed and popped under the potent corruption of the acidic demonic blood.

Khindristryx watched in fascination at the ferocity of the moment, and then it was over. She urged the magic of the pool to get a closer look at the naked elf. The image blurred and soon re-established itself on the face and torso of the comely figure, revealing the oddity of the symbols of three goddesses branded over her heart: Shar, Mystra, and Selune. It was one more mystery to add to the over all enigma of the elf, and one that the dracolich didn't have time to ponder at the moment.

The feral warrior lifted her head to the remaining combatants, her eyes glowing with a very familiar light. The dracolich hissed fearfully as she was once again faced with a pair of stormy eyes that threatened to consume her. The look was unmistakable. Had she still retained her lungs the dracolich would have gasped in fear and surprise; as it was, a tremor of terror rattling through her bones.

The elf turned her head just so, and Khindristryx knew that this goddess made flesh was aware of her scrying. The former dragon reflexively backed away from the pool at the toothy smile that split the elf maid's face. There was a flash of silver and the dracolich roared in pain. Four burning lines of argent fire flared across her snout and right eye, scorching the hardened bones painfully. The tainted Pool of Radiance roiled below her, consuming the scryed images and filling the room with a rotten, sulphuric smell.

Khindristryx growled and scored the stone floor of the poolroom with her great claws angrily. She had heard of the powers of spellfire and the whisperings of the even more potent silverfire, but never in her long life had she thought that such power could challenge her undead might. Regardless of what the tales said. She roared and let loose her breath weapon in her rage. A group of priests rushed into the chamber to investigate the disturbance and were unlucky enough to fall prey to the dracolich's noxious, acidic cloud. The corrosive gas literally ate away at her minions, leaving little in its wake save the echoes of the priests' screams.

Her anger and fear were consumed in the haze of fiery pain, and the undead dragon thrashed throughout the room attempting to ease the lingering agony of the elf-witch's attack. The suffering of the wound finally subsided, but left Khindristryx dazed for a number of minutes more. She hissed hatefully at the pool and immediately surveyed the damage to her skull. Four parallel, blackened gouges reached from the base of the right jaw and climbed the entire length of the skull.

The palace shook beneath an incredible blow and Khindristryx returned her gaze to the pool, noting that the magical water had suddenly become unnaturally smooth and silent. The mirror like surface once again became a window into the battle-frenzied courtyard. Dust and debris fell like a curtain over the plaza, obscuring the sight of what had caused the destruction of the eastern most tower of the palace. The still bodies of the dead littered the fitted stone courtyard and pools of black, red, and green blood collected a fine sheen of grit and white stone powder. A flash of red hair leapt from one of the billowing clouds of smoke and dirt to engage a Phaerimm that had retreated to a higher, and obviously to its mind, a safer altitude.

In an amazing display of power and agility, the elfmaid bounded from toppled stone to tree limb to broken wall – rapidly closing the distance between her and her opponent. Khindristryx stared at the odious form of the elf and growled. There was no doubt in her terribly warped mind that she would eventually have to face off against this goddess made flesh. The only questions were how soon the confrontation would come and how to defeat her. There was no time to develop a cunning plan and from the looks of things, even less time to lay any suitable traps. It would be a battle of power, brutal and destructive. From the way that the stones shook, the conflict would happen sooner than later. The dracolich needed an immediate source of power. Something that would overwhelm her opponent the instant she set foot into the palace.

The Pool of Radiance once again went unnaturally still and smooth, drawing the undead dragon's thoughts back to it. Khindristryx marshaled her will and began to submerge her mind in the magic of the pool. The limitless depths of the pool immediately began assaulting the dracolich's blighted soul.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Elsewhere in Myth Drannor **

Elminster and Valor had ridden on the switch back trail, zig-zagging back and forth in a dizzying, if not wholly frustrating series of loopy circles for the entire five and a half tendays that they had been following this young, Ranma Saotome.

They had been in and out of so many groves and fought more than one party of drow to a stand still. Valor, coming from the city of Ched Nasad, had very little problem dealing out death and mayhem to her kin. Though she made no mention of it, Elminster's reluctance to engage her kin surprised her a great deal. She didn't voice her concerns, but they must have been apparent on her face, for she heard Elminster simply mutter something about seeing enough killing to last a hundred life times and left it at that. While she agreed with the premise of his argument, she was never one to shy away from "preventative maintenance" where her kin were concerned. Still, the times that they were faced with unavoidable confrontations, Valor could freely admit that she much preferred Elminster's way of handling things. Esaurius' Gentle Laxative was a hilarious enchantment, especially when used to break a charge of dour-faced dark elves.

The drow aside, Valor could tell that Elminster was circling wide of their goal; brushing against the borders if you will. It was as if the old wizard was trying hard to delay the inevitable. Valor didn't completely understand his reasons, but considering young Ranma's choice of hunting grounds, she could appreciate Elminster's hesitation.

Myth Drannor was not a place to be traveled lightly.

The pair had already faced off against an unhealthy number of obstacles besides the drow; and though she was loathe admitting it, there were fouler things under the heavens than her black-skinned cousins. All things considered, Valor supposed that they were making better time than had they attempted to directly cross through the cursed lands.

"All my life," Elminster's voice broke through her ponderings as he nudged his horse nearer to her own. "…I found myself wishing for a companion who knew the value of silence. I must say however, that I never imagined a female, such as thyself, to be quite so miserly when it came to conversation."

Valor smiled at the jibe, causing a wicked looking scar at her temple to pucker.

"Do not misinterpret my observations, Fair Valor. Your restraint has allowed me time to ponder this new, and unusual course that my life has taken."

The drow's smile softened, but she held her tongue – waiting for the wizard's patience to wear thin. Normally, this ploy would have had little effect on the gray-bearded wizard. However, the stress of the current circumstances had yet to abate, so it was little wonder that someone as controlled and poised as the great Elminster of Shadowdale would feel a little frayed.

"Are you not the least bit interested in what we're about?" The wizard demanded. Valor could tell that he was used to dealing with people who had little patience and a great need to know as much as they could about the situations that they found themselves in. Valor had accepted the fact that life's mysteries would reveal themselves in their own due time, regardless of how hard she tried to speed things up. Her smile held more than a twinkle of mischief when she finally looked up to the mage.

"Is it time for me to know?" She weighed him with little more than a quirked eyebrow and the perception that perhaps she already knew a little more than she was letting on.

She had perfected the art of the bluff in her one hundred and sixtieth year, thanks to her dealings with Bregan D'Arthe. Few could make you second guess the truth more than Jalaxle, and the orphaned Valor had been an apt pupil; in more things than one. Not only had he taught her to watch for the right moment, he had also taught her to see the drow for what they really were…a dying race. She credited him with planting the seeds that eventually drove her from Ched Nasad. The thought that he had been the one to sell her out to the priests of Vhaerun, had crossed her mind more than once. Valor was intent on repaying the debt a hundred fold some time in the future. She had already spent seventy years refining the plan, a little longer and she was certain that she would be ready to implement it.

Elminster coughed and knuckled his mustachioed upper lip with a quiet smile, again drawing her from her meandering thoughts.

"I cannot tell you lass, just how refreshing it is to dialogue with someone of thy wit and humor. Aye, it is times like these that I can hardly see the Drow in thee."

"Thank you, Magister. One aims to please."

The wizard coughed gruffly and snorted derisively. After another moment of silence, Elminster's countenance turned serious.

"Herein is the true question, Lass. It is not a matter of whether it is time for thee to know, but rather, art thou brave and foolish enough to want to know?"

"I have learned to fear questions of choice, master wizard."

"As well you should, my dear Valor. For it is these questions, more often than not, that force us to change the most."

"Will I change greatly in the asking then?"

"In the asking…no. It is generally what comes after the asking that is usually troubling and distasteful." The pair entered a small grove and dismounted.

"Will having knowledge of this situation lead me to great discomfort?"

"Undoubtedly." El tethered his horse to a low branch and began searching the pockets of his robe for something.

"Will my life be in danger?"

"Assuredly."

"What then are the gains to balance out the perils?"

El paused in his search to look fondly at the drow.

"Thy wisdom astounds me, Fair Valor. Would that all the poppycock fools that set out to see the wide world, stop for a moment and ponder the consequences of their actions as thou dost."

Valor shrugged and continued on, keeping her silence.

"Now then, to the gains." El scratched his beard as. "I really can't say one way or another – adventure most assuredly." The sour expression on the wizard's face made it quite plain what he thought of that notion. In turn he pulled from one of his deeper pockets a tiny, but extremely detailed, iron tower and placed it at the center of the clearing. He tapped it thrice and muttered a whispered word, then stepped back as the small carving began to rapidly grow. He and Valor waited patiently for the magical building to stabilize, having grown to some thirty feet, before leading the horses into the construct.

"Is there aught else to be had besides adventure?" The drow lead her horse into one of six stalls on the lowest floor, and set about feeding and brushing her mount. The Archmage followed her lead.

"Aye, I hope so. This Ranma fellow seems to be a very special lad with a unique destiny to fulfill. Undoubtedly, we would play some small part in that destiny. In turn, I'm sure we'll learn a thing or two ourselves along the way – maybe even see something new."

"Knowledge is always a worthy prize." The drow looked to her patron thoughtfully. "I believe I will stay the course, if it pleases you."

"I could not hope for more pleasant company, Lass." They finished bedding the horses, and closed up the tower against potential enemies before climbing the stone stairs that magically floated down from the ceiling. "Now then, if you wouldn't mind fixing us some dinner, I've a spell or three to cast. Once we've eaten, then we can see about weaving some real magic."

Valor, like so many of Elminster's female companions of the past, was uncertain just what to make of that statement. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter. Wizards were strange folk, and Elminster of Shadowdale was among the strangest she'd ever known.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**On the outskirts of Hemmerling**

Grrlixi was what one would call an educated gnoll. By grace of an abnormality in his vocal chords, the eight foot tall beast had come to learn languages with ease. The common trade tongue and a few of the more common languages throughout the north were rather easily picked up, thanks to his previous master.

The eccentric wizard Irnae, a native of Calmiport, had been obsessed with good form and etiquette. As such, when he came across Grrlixi, the spell caster readily saw potential in the young monster. Grrlixi didn't disappoint his master, and soon had learned to read and speak many of the human languages that his master knew.

His writing, though crude, was legible; and his table manners were exquisite. Irnae had been well pleased with his accomplishment, and had given Grrlixi the prominent place at his right hand. The gnoll was eager to pay his master back for this kindness, and thus furthered his liege's interests amongst the goblin races.

Towards the end of Irnae's life, Grrlixi had gathered a sizable army together through cunning and diplomacy; some said that it was the greatest goblinoid army ever assembled. Unfortunately, Irnae died shortly after the first skirmish with a local township, and the army fell apart soon after.

What was Grrlixi to do? For a time the gnoll lived off of the riches of his former master, that is until the Zhentarim and the Red Wizards of Thay had learned of Irnae's death. Their agents and mercenaries were sent to plunder the mage's tower, and those foolish enough to stand against the raiders lost their lives. Those that followed Grrlixi lived, but lost the comforts of their home. The Zhentarim set up an outpost in the fortress, and the goblinoid band was effectively tossed out on their tails. So, Grrlixi took up the noble, time-honored occupation of banditry. It wasn't the glorious battle that he had envisioned for his master, but it paid the bills.

He'd found himself some former pack members, namely his mate and some cousins from up north, and a few rather brutish human outcasts from the local barbarian tribes. Once he'd organized them into something resembling a band, they'd set out to plague a little stretch of road just west of the moderately sized trade town of Hemmerling. It was some one hundred forty miles northeast of Yartar, and consequently one of two major stopping points between Yartar and Everlund. The second stop was the town of Tradesburrow, which was another hundred and fifty miles north along the Everlund Road, just south of the Rauvin Crossing. It was a known haven to a number of Treehuggers and Rangers, which tended to make banditry a bit more hazardous to one's health. Thus, when Rodbury Hearthman had approached the gnoll bandit, Grrlixi had grinned with pleasure.

Hearthman had offered to act as a sponsor and middleman for the bandits, passing them juicy tidbits here and there in the form of competing merchants, or wealthy travelers. He'd also opened up his expansive, forested, estate to hide Grrlixi's band whenever the constable was out and about. They in turn would share a portion of their take. It had been an unpleasant surprise for Grrlixi to find Hearthman at the mouth of the abandoned mine, bruised and bleeding.

He had mobilized the band, telling them of a fat catch looking to take over his property. This of course upset the robbers quite a bit. Grrlixi didn't mind moving on, but the majority of his group wasn't quite ready to give up their hunting grounds. Which was why the group was here, patiently waiting in ambush along the stretch of road leading up to Hearthman's estate. The last lights of dusk had just passed beneath the horizon, leaving the night dark and moonless.

Hark! Was that the sound of children singing and laughing? What could more readily grace his tender ears, but the sounds of fools waiting to donate to his ready cause! It was yet another potential opportunity for wealth, and all he had to do was kill one slip of a girl. He motioned for his companions to step lively, and soon their group of fifteen split into three smaller parties of five and began loping towards the sounds of song in the distance.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Highden**

"THEY DONE IT!"

Keiichi and Sam looked up from their evening tea as Duncan stomped through the kitchen door slamming it with a bang. Keiichi had seen the dwarf upset a time or two, but this…fit…was something new altogether. His dear friend was enraged.

"DAMN THAT HAROUN MOSTANA TO THE BLACK FIERY PITS THAT SPAWNED HIM! AND DAMN ME FER A FOOL AS WELL!"

Sam immediately leapt from her chair and took her husband's neatly bearded face in her hands. To Keiichi's surprise, Duncan seized up and calmed. After a moment, he noted tears beginning to leak from the stout dwarf's eyes. The intimacy of the moment combined with Duncan's emotional state made Keiichi terribly uncomfortable – so much so that he stood from his chair, intent on giving the couple their privacy.

"Sit yerself down, Lad. The sad tale I got involves both o' ye."

Duncan sighed heavily, earning him a kiss on the forehead from his wife. The dwarf trudged over to the table and settled himself heavily into his customary chair at the head of the table. His wife poured him a fresh cup of tea and added a liberal splash of brandy to the cup in turn. When Sam had freshened Keiichi's cup and finally settled herself next to her husband, Duncan shifted uncomfortably – obviously looking for the right words to broach the bad news. Keiichi felt the weight of Duncan's troubles begin to settle over him after a moment, but waited patiently for his mentor to speak.

"After our celebration, I got an itch ta go an see the head o' me order. High Builder Maverly is an honest man, mind. He was the one that introduced me to the Wonderbringer and afterwards convinced me an' Sam ta relocate ourselves here, from our hearth in the Small Teeth Mountains near Imnescar. Maverly and me, we went way back. He knew me sire and had done a lot of business with me family, buyin' ore and having special parts crafted for his creations. I'd travel down ta his small chapel in Imnescar for the Festivals and ta deliver his orders. It weren't too hard ta fall in love with all the gadgets and boobobbles that the priests built."

Duncan laughed and shook his head at some long off memory.

"I remember seein' this wild contraption, built by some fool ta dig ore from the ground. It was shortly after Sam and I had been wed, see, and I got real angry about the machine. It was like a mosquito bite smack dab in the middle o' me back. Ask Sam, I 'bout drove her mad fer two…"

"Try four Dear." Sam smiled innocently as she sipped her tea earning a snort from Duncan.

"…four weeks. I couldn't get the idea outta me head that this fool's machine was gonna go inta someone's mine and end up killin' a bunch of people 'cause o' shoddy workmanship and a gross sense of ignorance. Well, it done drove me so mad that I finally confronted Maverly over the issue." Duncan sipped his tea and brandy and shook his head.

"What did he say?"

"He told me, with a grin mind you, that if'n I didn't like the design then I should create somethin' better instead o' whinin' about it. Well, I told 'em flat out that it was a load o' rubbish and he knew what he could do with it. Then he done looked me square in the eye and laughed! Called me a coward, mewling calf, an' all sorts of unmentionables."

Keiichi's eyes grew wide.

"What happened then?"

"I broke his knee, busted his nose, and broke his jaw in three places…" Duncan's grin was irreverent, and Keiichi was surprised to note that Sam was smiling and nodding…like she fully approved the action! Keiichi wasn't entirely sure how to deal with that idea. Thankfully Duncan's story drew him away from that line of thinking.

"…and, while the old crackpot was healing up, I went out and designed me a better digger. It was so good in fact that I won the Festival of Creation, a hefty prize, and me first patron. Soon afterward, Maverly inducted me inta the priesthood and when he got called back to Lantan, he asked me an' Sam ta come with him. That was nearly twenty years ago."

Duncan sighed heavily again and swallowed the rest of his drink in one mighty gulp.

"I got meself sidetracked, but at least now you understand what type o' man the High Builder is. He honest and faithful and true – an odd sort of combination fer a human in me experience. No offense."

"None taken." Keiichi grinned.

"Well, I went ta him ta lodge a formal complaint about Mostana's conduct and pesterin'. But as I'm getting' there, who should be comin' outta Maverly's office, but the little rat himself. Well, Maverly asks the little blighter, ta wait while he an' I have a little chat…a chat that turned inta me shoutin' and hollerin' like a mad man – an all the while, Maverly's sittin' calm as you please.

"I ain't going ta go inta details about what was said, but I came ta find out that Mostana issued a complaint o' his own, claimin' that me Iron Horse is a tainted abomination that should be scrapped and slagged."

"He didn't!" Sam gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, Duncan! Tell me you didn't…!"

Duncan lowered his head shamefully.

"I did. It took four of the burlier acolytes ta separate me fist from his throat."

"Oh, Duncan!"

"That ain't ta say that the little bumkisser didn't get a few of his own licks in." The dwarf pulled his collar open to reveal an ugly purple, black, and green bruise just below his collarbone. "Once the acolytes had me down on the floor, Mostana pulls one of the ornamental wrenches from the wall outside Maverly's office and nailed me good. That's when the High Builder got Jhurra involved."

"Jhurra?" Keiichi asked.

"Maverly's Gondsman. It's an artificial man o' sorts. Like a mechanical golem ya might say…." Keiichi wasn't totally clear on the picture, but it sounded like a robot. Images of Banpei immediately drifted through his mind. "Well, Maverly was pissin' fire at that point. He sent down an official reprimand ta the High Artificer himself, namin' us both in the report while we sat there and watched him draft it. The Artificer sent back an immediate reply, givin' Maverly the authority to excommunicate us on the spot if he felt the need. That was certainly a wake up call fer the two o' us, an Maverly wasn't content to let us off with a slap on the wrist this time.

"See Keiichi, me an Mostana go way back. He's a no talent charlatan from Calimport, with more love fer gold, than fer the craft. The only reason he's made it as high in the clergy as he has, is because of the gold his contacts bring ta the church's coffers. Ever since we met, he an' I've hated one another. Well, Maverly flat out told us that he was sick of it and said that one of us was going to go this time. He said that he wasn't going to be the one ta decide, but that he was gonna let Gond be the judge. We got till the Festival of Creation to prepare an entry for special consideration. The High Artificer will present the creation to Gond on the morning of the Festival. Whoever wins favor, stays in the priesthood. The other will be excommunicated, and banned from Lantan for life."

Sam's eyes immediately began to tear up.

"How do I fit into this?" Keiichi asked quietly. Duncan's face drooped and his eyes sought out his empty cup.

"Part of the charges Mostana brought against me named you as a 'dangerous heretical influence to the Church' – one that should be driven from Lantan and branded an enemy o' the faith."

"What does that mean?" Keiichi was certain that he didn't want to know.

"By now, everyone's heard the name o' Keiichi Morisato, Beloved of Belldandy. Especially after the success o' yer sewin' machine. The fact that ye worship a foreign goddess, an' have outdone a lot of the clergy with yer first creation…well, son…it doesn't sit well with most folks. Mostana wants you judged alongside me, meanin' that yer gonna have ta create something as well."

"Me? But that's crazy!"

"I don't like it meself, Lad. Mostana's already throwin' all o' his weight behind this. There's no way around it. If we want ta keep our home, then yer gonna have ta compete too. Mostana said that if'n ye didn't, then it was a clear sign of unsavory intent. I told the little bastard that you weren't the type ta walk away from a challenge."

"DUNCAN!" Sam was thoroughly scandalized. "How could you? Keiichi is our guest, you had no right to speak for him in this matter." Duncan looked ashamed.

"Don't worry, Sam. Duncan was right to say what he said."

"No he wasn't, Keiichi! It's his damn fool pride shooting his mouth off without thinking." Sam glared at her husband and crossed her arms over her chest.

"It's alright, Sam. Really." Keiichi smiled at her. "Belldandy always said, that the goddess of Luck always smiles on those who give their all. I know we'll win Gond's favor. All we have to do is come up with something suitably incredible and put our hearts into it. Besides, what type of friend would I be, if I let a little rat like Mostana to rob you of your home?"

"Yer a good lad, Keiichi Morisato. A good lad."

Keiichi blushed, but smiled all the same.

"What are friends for? Now. Tell me about the rules to this competition…."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Ranma's mind

Mystra arrived outside the gates of Ranma's soul-fortress beside Shar. The bastion was impressive, reminding her of the mighty palaces of the Jade Emperors of Kara Tur. There was an undeniable strength about the building that reflected well on the young man's potential. The goddess of magic couldn't help but be impressed with the subtlety of his weavings. It was too bad that she would probably have to destroy it in order to reclaim the power he'd taken from her. She looked to Shar's incarnation and noted a similar reluctance playing out on her adversary's face.

"You have over-stepped your bounds, Mortal!" Shar's voice echoed against the castle's walls. "Return to me what you have stolen and I will let you live to serve me!"

Mystra shook her head. After having lived the young man's life through his memories, the Lady of Mysteries knew that Shar had just tossed the challenge gauntlet at Ranma's feet. She didn't know how she was going to approach the boy, but she knew that this was not the way to do it.

"Did you not hear me boy?" Shar planted her fists on her shapely hips arrogantly. "I command you to heed me or face destruction!"

The gates of the castle opened slowly, and Ranma appeared. She could feel his confidence flowing from him in waves.

"Who couldn't hear you, with that big mouth of yours flappin' nonstop. Nag, nag, nag. You're almost as bad as Kuno."

Mystra couldn't help but laugh at the corresponding image that his comparison brought to her mind's eye. She ignored the glare that her long time foe sent her. The boy had no idea who he was facing, but the Lady of Mysteries had to admit, he'd hit the nail on the head. Petty, delusional, vengeful, insane…that was Shar all right.

"How dare you!" Shar seethed.

"Look lady, I don't know what's got your panties in a twist, but I really don't care. You got a bone ta pick with me, fine. Let's get on with it. If you're just going to flap your gums all day, I got better stuff ta do."

Shar's body erupted into a corona of purple flames. Mystra started to step in front of the boy, but Ranma simply ignored the display of power by buffing his fingernails on his shirt.

"I will make your suffering last an eternity!"

Ranma opened and closed his hand, making it repeat Shar's vow in a high-pitched squeak. Shar screamed and launched a gout of violet fire at the boy. He calmly dodged the strike, flipping over Shar's head to tap her in the back of the neck. The goddess of loss retaliated with another strike, but Ranma had somehow moved in front of her and tapped her nose.

The goddess of darkness sent thousands of tiny tendrils lashing out at her opponent, only to have them all dodged or knocked aside. Mystra could feel Shar's attempts to siphon back her power, and was surprised that her attacks were being thwarted.

"GIVE ME BACK MY POWER!"

Mystra conjured a comfortable chair for herself and began taking notes. Ranma had complete control of the battle from the very beginning, and she wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that they were in his mind. It made a certain amount of sense. He was lord here, and thus they would always be at a disadvantage. If this was truly the case, then she was going to have to bring Ranma to Dweomorheart in order to reclaim the power he'd taken from her.

Ranma seemed to disappear and reappear behind Shar again, only this time, he smacked her shapely bottom.

"Come on! You can do better than that! You're leaving yourself wide open!" Shar screamed and flared her flaming aura, but Ranma was already moving. He landed next to another figure that had just appeared near the gates of the castle.

"Why do all the cute ones got to be so damn violent?"

"I wish I knew." Everyone looked at the new arrival and blinked.

"Laraethian? What are you doing here?" Shar demanded.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He grinned impishly.

"Actually, I would." Mystra conjured a table complete with tea service and snacks, and settled herself back into her chair. Ranma appeared almost instantly at her side with puppy dog eyes and a pleading smile. Mystra giggled and nodded, letting Ranma attack the snacks.

Shar's aura boiled.

"Mystra, Darling! How are you, Dear?" Corellon Laraethian, Lord of the Seldarine, patted Ranma on the shoulder as he passed, conjuring a chair for himself as well.

"I've been worse. And you?"

"Same old stuff really. Kicking Gruumsh's arse every so often, trying to convince Ellistraee to settle down, pushing for divorce from Loth, etc. etc." Mystra nodded politely.

"What brings you here of all places?" Mystra noted that Ranma's eyebrow quirked at the question.

"A little business actually." He patted Ranma on the shoulder. "This young warrior has been cleaning up Myth Drannor, and I just wanted to say thank you."

Ranma looked up from his feast long enough to raise an eyebrow before shrugging and going back to eating. Mystra rolled her eyes and looked back to the elf god across from her.

"Pull the other one Laraethian. You're scheming. I can tell." Ranma frowned as he bit into another chicken salad sandwich. "Are you looking to add a little more power to your portfolio?"

"Mystra! You wound me! I'm here with a pure motive. Young Ranma has been doing us a great service. He deserves a reward!" Mystra looked at the elf god askance, but grinned knowingly.

"What's the catch?" Ranma growled, blocking another bolt of power from Shar with the reflective surface of the platinum tea tray. There was a great explosion and everyone turned to see Shar's smoking body laid out in a rather large crater. Ranma shrugged and looked back to Corellon expectantly.

"That's a very good question, Ranma."

Mystra shivered at the sound of the new voice. She looked up to see Kihon'i appear behind Ranma. She handed him and Corellon small cards and offered Mystra a predatory smile. "Mystra dear, you and Shar left so suddenly that we didn't get a chance to conclude our business."

The young man and the elf god blinked, looking up at the new goddess with more than a little bit of trepidation.

"There was an emergency and…" The goddess of magic stammered. Kihon'i waved Mystra's excuse aside.

"I know. I know. Ranma here, represents a terrible threat to the Weave and you are here to set things straight. Shar's pissed because Ranma's influencing the Shadow Weave, and Corellon here wants to fill a long overdue vacancy in the pantheon."

"Ha! I knew it!" Mystra crowed, pointing an accusing finger at the elf god. Shar took this moment to stumble up to the table, a little charred around the edges, but for the most part intact. She pulled two very deadly looking short swords from somewhere and began swinging. Her movements were rather clumsy, or at least that's the way Ranma made her look – something that surprised both Mystra and Corellon. He dodged and batted away her strikes absently as he drank his tea. He blocked another flurry of blows and then finally disarmed her with a twist of his wrist. She blinked incredulously and then just as suddenly found herself flat on her stomach with Ranma sitting in the middle of her back eating another sandwich. Mystra was certain this wasn't meant to add to Shar's humiliation, but she made a note to frame a poster-sized print of this for Selune.

Kihon'i cleared her throat. Shar paused in her rant about what she was going to do to Ranma's entrails over the next couple of millennia and looked up. Her eyes bugged and her black, starry skin seemed to polarize, becoming a white with tiny black stars.

"…oh, crap…."

"Indeed." Kihon'i smiled in a way that looked very much like a shark. "As fun as this has been to watch, we've got business to finish up."

Shar whimpered.

"Now then. We'll start with you Shar, since I've got your attention. For the number of infractions and abuses of your power and station, I'm afraid the penalties are going to be rather stiff. First and foremost among your infractions, concerns Mister Saotome here."

"WHAT!" Shar bucked and kicked, trying to displace Ranma, but was unable to get any leverage. "If anyone should be punished, it should be this little maggot!"

"Hey! What did I do?"

"You know the rules and you were warned from the outset, Shar."

"He stole from me!" Shar protested.

"How the hell do you figure that, you crazy psycho?" Ranma countered. "I don't even know you! How the hell could I steal anything from you?"

"Mister Saotome, please." Kihon'i paused and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The infraction of which you speak was not theft. It was an improvisation on the natural laws governing the Weave and Shadow Weave. The fact that Ranma absorbed a portion of your essence was an unintentional accident. However, the fact that you and Mystra took advantage of the situation to perpetuate your little dispute was not. Your continued aggressions against Mister Saotome, with the intent to destroy him, have further condemned you. As such, you will forfeit control of the power Ranma has absorbed as compensation."

Shar literally exploded, throwing Ranma into the outer wall of his castle. Her body reformed, taking on a more menacing avatar. She stood some twenty feet tall, and her lithe, feminine form was covered in black, razor-plated armor. In one fist she gripped a whip of black flames, and in the other a wicked looking khopesh. She towered over Kihon'i, radiating enough power to cause the mindscape to boil beneath her feet.

The sword rose and fell with a blinding swiftness that Mystra could hardly follow. To her surprise though, the sword shattered the moment it came in contact with the goddess. Kihon'i looked up at the goddess of loss and shook her head. She pulled a small pendant from her dress and tapped it, causing the stone to grow. Mystra paled and swallowed hard upon reading the decree on the tablet. Ranma arrived and picked up another sandwich, scratching his head in confusion. Corellon whistled and shook his head.

"What's that?"

"Her badge, Ranma." Mystra whispered.

"You mean she's a cop?"

"After a fashion." Kihon'i smiled.

"Reap what you've sown, Shar. Understand though, that the price you're going to be paying just went up and you've no one to blame but yourself." She paused and tapped the tablet for emphasis. "Maybe you'll learn not to go against official agents of the head office next time."

The Hand of Ao looked over at the confused Ranma and smiled.

"Shar's been a bad girl and broken a few laws, Ranma. Because of that, she's going to have to make amends. If she doesn't…well…it's not something that we like to think about."

"Ouch. So what's she got to do? Go to jail?"

"No. She's going to be giving up control of something very close to her heart." Shar looked up in panic at the declaration.

Shar fell to her knees.

"You can't!"

"By your own hand and Ao's word, I already have. The Shadow Weave is no longer yours." She gestured to Ranma and the boy's body was wreathed in black lightning. Ranma looked like he was about to scream, but he held it in. When the transfer passed, the young man fell to his knees opposite Shar.

"What the hell was that?" He panted.

"We'll go over everything after we're done here." Kihon'i patted his shoulder and looked up to Mystra. "Are you going to fight Justice too, or will you walk the same path as your predecessor?"

The goddess of magic shook her head and motioned for Kihon'i to continue.

"Good. As with my initial ruling for Shar, you will forfeit the power that Ranma accidentally absorbed. How you fit him into the scheme of things is up to you, but understand that Lord Ao's decree is still in play. I've taken steps to have someone start his education, but from here on out he's going to be on his own."

"And when he leaves?" Mystra was uncertain how she felt about this turn of events.

"Lord Ao made it very clear that it would be his choice. The mantle can go with him, or he can pass it off to someone else."

Mystra looked at Ranma again and sighed as she felt the loss of power become permanent. The boy was glowing a light silver now, and looking very uncomfortable. Lord Ao had taken some drastic measures here, and she had to wonder if it would balance the scales or tip them in her favor. In the end Mystra knew that it was going to take a great deal of time to sort the whole mess out, and she couldn't fault anyone but herself for the loss. Her only hope was that she could make friends with Ranma. The last thing she needed was to make an enemy of someone that had suddenly been elevated to become her near equal.

"Now then, we're running low on time, so we're going to have to wrap this up quickly. Corellon, you're up." Mystra looked up as the elf god pulled a silver torque from his cloak and moved in front of Ranma.

"Ranma Saotome, for services to the elves I offer you this gift. Will you accept our gratitude for saving so many lost souls from the clutches of Myth Drannor?" Ranma blinked and shrugged.

"Uh…sure…whatever." The Lord of Elves gently placed the torque around Ranma's neck and smiled. Ranma smiled back uncertainly. "Man, this is one whacked dream."

"It's no dream, Ranma." Corellon patted Ranma on the shoulder. "Welcome to the family."

"Huh?"

Mystra shook her head in awe and amusement. She started to explain things, but the sky above the gathering was torn asunder. Everyone looked up to see a pitched battle being fought, and then Ranma screamed. The last thing that Mystra saw before being thrown from the mindscape, was the body of a Phaerimm tearing something from Ranma's soul.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**Continued in Chapter 6c**_


	8. Chapter 6c

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Disclaimer**:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters, places, and other creative wonders belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them. 6c

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Myth Drannor**

Ranma-neko danced around the lightning and fire that the Twisted Ones threw at her. The night sky was alight with angry lights and deafening explosions. She could sense that her enemies were trying to trap her, and could feel their unnatural minds trying to break her. She couldn't conceptualize the mental attacks, but she did know that the Twisted Ones were deadly opponents. She felt them trying to tame her, to collar her and she fought them tooth and claw. These two were quite different from their fellows. They were smart enough to keep her at a safe distance, out of the reach of her claws and her teeth.

They kept her moving too.

Every time she landed on something, fire would attempt to burn her, or ice to freeze her, or the earth to consume her. They pushed her relentlessly, refusing to allow her a moment's rest; all the while they attacked her body and her mind in tandem. But despite their attacks, Ranma-neko didn't leave them unscathed.

It was a harsh battle that neither side was gaining any ground in. At least until the third Twisted One made its presence known. She felt something akin to tangle vines snarling her body mid-leap. She couldn't see or smell them, but that meant little since she could feel them. Her back paws were bound and something had pinned her front legs close to her chest, but she was still able to roll with her impact on the large flat stone field beneath her.

They were cunning; she had to give their pack credit for outsmarting her. That didn't necessarily mean that she was going to roll over and show her throat to them though.

She lashed out viciously, raking her claws through the air and shredding and gouging the pair that had drawn close to finish her off. Her teeth came down on the invisible vines and began worrying them. She watched the third Twisted One some distance away as it rolled and spun in a frantic dance. Its paws were clawing at the air, leaving odd arcs of light in their wake, and it seemed to be growling in a strange way. She didn't understand the behavior of the Tainted, but she could feel the vines finally giving way beneath her teeth. The air was thick and charged with energy, but Ranma-neko did not stop to assess the sudden change in the environment.

She burst from her bonds and immediately launched herself at the abomination. Her body impacted heavily, driving the creature up and over the palace proper with a flurry of strikes that tore incredible gouges in the creature's body as well as the area surrounding the combatants.

The Twisted One screeched as she finally severed one of its remaining paws, but not before it completed its nefarious work. Ranma-neko blinked and noted something strange happening within her. First there was a light tug, and then a solid yank on the core of her being. Something sharp and painful struck her and caused her to yowl in agony. There was no concept for the exquisite torture in her limited and feral vocabulary. However, deep within Ranma's soul a daunting black prison shattered. There was a moment of clarity as the spirits of cat, human, and deity knew one another, and then the cat was literally torn from Ranma's soul. The once feral martial artist watched numbly as a ball of energy that looked vaguely feline rocketed toward a shimmering necklace in her opponent's severed hand, falling to the courtyard below.

Ranma's pain climaxed, sending her mind into a chaotic dance.

It was the most unbearable experience she had ever felt. She couldn't even find breath to scream. Her blood was aflame, consuming her from the inside out and the heart of her identity started to splinter and come undone. She screamed in anguish and frantically reached out to the ki around her. The lines were tainted and sickening, but she seized them with little regard for the damage it might do to her in the long run. The most important thing now was to keep herself intact. A darkness surged through her, making her want to vomit but it kept her spirit from finally shattering. It was like drinking directly from a sewage pipe though, and it was all that she could do to hold on until the mystical attack was finally repelled.

What little control she'd maintained was swept away in a torrential flood of power that literally burst from every pour in her body. Ranma finally found voice for her pain, and it echoed for miles around the dead city of Myth Drannor.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Hemmerling **

"Will you please at least tell me about your dreams?"

Usagi walked on beneath the dark shapes of the trees, pretending not to hear Ulin's question. The questions had been coming non-stop since the group had begun walking and the displaced Senshi was incredibly tired of the pestering. There were times that she thought Ulin could teach Luna a thing or two about nagging!

"You can ignore this all you want, Usagi. It doesn't change the fact that you haven't been eating well or sleeping through the night since we left the mines. There is something terribly wrong, but I can't help if you will not share what ill you are carrying. Are you troubled about Goruch's death?"

The young woman stifled a mighty yawn at the mention of sleep, but chose not to acknowledge Ulin's query. Instead she turned her attention further up the line of refugees to the stumpy figure of a round-shouldered dwarf and their guide, Marcus.

"How much further to the estate, Mister Marcus?"

Ulin's face soured and the air filled with the distinctive smell of brimstone and ash.

"So be it, Girl! If you are woman enough to ignore my offer and my counsel, then you are woman enough to solve your own troubles. You can rot for all I care! Let your dreams consume you from the inside out! See if I concern myself about your health and well being ever again!" The Genasi hissed as she spun on her heel and stomped through the crowd, towards the back of the line. Usagi watched her go with some regret, but it was tempered by a healthy dose of frustration as well.

"Not ta be puttin' me nose where the hornets are buzzin' Mistress," Garl Blackhammer moved quickly to fall in step with Usagi. "…but I'm fer thinking that the Earth Sister was aimin' ta be helpin' ye."

Usagi sighed as she turned to look down at the stout dwarf. He sported a large wickedly rooted club that looked very much like a miniature tree, save for the very detailed faces that Garl had carved into the wood. He shifted the weapon so that it was resting over his right shoulder, and a soft smile, which seemed totally at odds with the rest of his stony face, grew as Usagi looked for the right words.

"I know, Mister Blackhammer. But there are some things that she can't help me with." The dwarf snorted and knuckled his mustache. "She's got more than enough to worry about without having to add me to the list."

"Beggin' yer pardon, Lady. But if it pleases you, me name's Garl." He nodded matter-of-factly and scratched his beard nervously. "And if ye'll pardon me nose again, I'd say it's fair obvious that yer at the top o' her list."

Usagi shot the dwarf an icy gaze through narrowed eyes that should have frozen him in place. Had he been paying more attention to her rather than the tree line, he might have been properly cowed. She started to say something in rebuttal, but immediately found herself bereft of breath and flying. She hit the ground in a roll that left her feeling very dizzy and disoriented. The air seemed incredibly still for an instant, and then screams began echoing up and down the forested road.

Usagi caught one last glimpse of Garl Blackhammer pulling his club down into a very menacing position, before her vision was obscured by running bodies and clouds of dust. She was forced to scramble to her feet to avoid being trampled, but once standing all that she saw was bedlam.

Men, women, and children were running every which way, being chased by large wolfish shadows and other armored figures brandishing weapons. Usagi could see Shandri standing valiantly against one of the towering monsters in order to protect four little girls. She had no weapon and already one arm hung limp and bloody at her side.

Usagi started to go to her aid; one of Ulin's newly taught spells already leaving her lips. Once she had let loose the magical darts (that strangely enough looked like tiny pink hearts), she started running towards the girls. She had taken less than five steps, when she was brought up short by the image of the man from her nightmares blocking her path.

COMPENSATION MUST BE MET, DAUGHTER OF THE WEAVE. His voice was cool and placid, like the still waters of a lake in late autumn. NOT EVEN YOU CAN STOP THE HANDS OF FATE. THE BALANCE WILL BE MAINTAINED.

Rage and frayed nerves fought with Usagi's pent up terror. It was a familiar feeling. She'd felt it when facing Beryl. She'd weathered it when facing Wiseman. It had been there when she had confronted Galaxia. But there was something else that had been present in all those instances as well. Determination.

The armored man brought up his sword in salute to her as she let the fires of her spirit surge forth. Her traveling clothes disappeared in a shimmering cascade of power, being replaced by a gown of the purest white.

"I know you now." She said calmly…more calmly than she truly felt at least. That well-known sense of detachment settled over her as she felt her power gathering. "You are the end of all things."

He nodded to her once in acceptance.

"I must fight you." Her voice was steady in spite of her sweaty palms.

YOU CANNOT. It was stated as a fact and punctuated by a woman's scream.

"I will fight you." She felt her anger beginning to boil in her throat at the sight of a man, Kern Deffin, fall to the ground with an arrow protruding from his throat.

HOW CAN YOU HOPE TO WIN? There was no amusement in his voice, nor did he patronize her. Usagi noted with some surprise that he seemed to have had this discussion many times before. That thought alone made her angrier than she had ever been in her life.

"I will win because I have to!" She growled. "DO YOU HEAR ME? BECAUSE I HAVE TO!"

A silver wave exploded outward from her person, augmented by the power of the Silver Crystal pendant hanging about her neck, bathing the small battleground in argent fires. The heat of conflict was stolen from aggressor and defender alike, leaving everyone staring dumbly at one another. An unnatural peace settled over the glade. Wounds healed. Fatal attacks were reversed, and the monstrous wolfmen that had been loping to the kill became…something else completely. The armored man before Usagi had not moved however. In fact, he looked intent on approaching the wobbling Usagi to lend her a hand. Some how she managed enough strength to straighten and glare at the warrior she had named Death.

YOU MAY FIGHT, AS MANY DO. BUT A PRICE MUST BE PAID, SILVER PRINCESS, FOR THOSE YOU HAVE WRONGLY TAKEN AS YOUR OWN.

"…what's the price you're asking…?" She croaked.

THE SCALES MUST BE BALANCED, SOUL FOR SOUL – EITHER THIS OR A PURE SOUL FREELY GIVEN TO FILL THEIR VOID.

Usagi trembled a bit at the finality of the figure's words. People and creatures alike had come to circle the tableau out of fear and curiosity. The young woman looked up and smiled at Ulin with all the love that she could muster, before stepping forward and opening her arms.

"I offer myself then, on their behalf, if it is an acceptable trade."

The specter of death simply stared back at her for a moment. His hesitation did not last though. His hand reached forward and took Usagi's. The moment her skin and his touched, there was a massive explosion that threw everyone to the ground. The deathly warrior and Usagi alone stood, but they were trapped in a column of shimmering energy.

**_IT HAS BEEN DECREED FROM THE BEGINNING, NO DIVINE HAND SHALL PREVAIL OVER THESE. HEAR THESE WORDS, KELEMVOR. HEAR THEM AND OBEY._**

There was another explosive blast, but this time the deathly warrior was consumed in an implosion. Usagi found herself thrown from her feet to land in a heap near Shandri, sapped of her strength. All that she could muster was a small smile of victory.

"…I won…?"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Myth Drannor**

The bodies of the dead – mortal, elf, and Infernal littered the clearing haphazardly. Braerindra had never thought she would be glad for something as gruesome as this to decorate her grove. Nor would she have ever envisioned a day when watching bodies decaying would be a welcome respite from the boredom of eternal servitude. She sighed a ghostly sigh and looked up to the gathering storm clouds blocking out the stars above her eternal post.

Something on the edge of her perceptions tugged at her…pulling at the magic that anchored her to the grove. The tug became a solid pull, filled with urgency and panic that tore her free from the geas. From her seat on the stone bench at the center of the grove, Braerindra felt the mystical chains binding her snap and for the first time in uncounted centuries, she was free. She heard the sound of ultimate suffering echoing throughout her once beautiful home and followed the undeniable draw to its source.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Ranma fell, wreathed, like a tiny star, in black lightning and silver flame. She plummeted into the palace proper, unconsciously burning and blowing away the stone and mortar that attempted to bar her path. As she limply looked heavenward, she could see a writhing, cone-like shadow descending rapidly in her wake. Its remaining two appendages glowed with power and a fierce chanting filled the air.

On some level Ranma knew what was coming. The gestures and the patterns that were being drawn in the air were familiar to her. She could feel the chaotic energy…her energy…building. She knew that the spell being cast would open a maw of chaos, ripping the air and the surrounding area to shreds, and she would be at the center of it all – most likely flayed alive…if she was lucky.

She wanted to puke, and her limbs felt like they were melting from the inside out. She'd never felt anything like this in her waking life. Hell, not even the Neko-ken was this painful. She knew that she was crying, and on some level she was glad that she was a girl at the moment.

It was so hard to concentrate. What had she been thinking about? She'd lost her train of thought. Not that it really mattered. Damn. She felt like she'd faced Taro, Ryoga, Herb, and the frickin' pervert all at once. All she wanted to do was close her eyes and die. Sleeping forever was sounding really good about now.

Who was she kidding though? She was Ranma Saotome. That lame excuse for a windsock had just opened a can of whoop-ass on her and here she was, wanting to throw in the towel. Rat-bastard was worse than the panda when it came to taking cheap shots.

As she fell she could sense somewhere deep below her, a well of more power…pulsing in time with her erratic heart and swirling with the chaos that had become her soul. The wild, tainted force called to her, yearning to be used…begging to be cleansed. The sudden buzz in the back of her head drove away the pain, pushing it back and veiling it behind a flimsy veil of numbness. She wasn't sure whether it was a late dose of adrenaline kicking in or what, but she grinned all the same.

Never let it be said that Ranma Saotome didn't give as good as she got.

Thoughts of burning herself out never entered Ranma's mind as she embraced the bedlam. She opened herself up to the lifeblood of the world once more, tapping into the limitless well and drawing its power to her. She screamed defiantly as the power washed over her and through her, scouring away tiny bits of blackness as it went. The corona of fire and lightning exploded outward, melting and disintegrating the stone, mortar, and anything else that happened to get in her path. She could have sworn that she'd seen someone's startled face disappear before her, but she couldn't be certain.

Something powerful on the fringe of her consciousness attempted to wrest control from her and she immediately began fighting this new opponent with everything she could muster. There was no doubt that she could not afford to lose this new battle, for more than her life was at stake. Her very soul was on the line.

The Phaerimm's spell went off above her, just as she punched through the ceiling of a large chamber deep within the bowels of the Coronal's Palace. Ranma twisted and faced her original opponent as the air about her literally exploded with malevolent energy, ripping and tearing into her body. She reflexively began to absorb the magic, pulling it into her. The effort itself was incredible and she almost faltered. The entity on the fringe of her mind surged forward, but some how in her desperate thrashing she managed to hold it at bay. The strain was too much though, and Ranma was barely able to maintain consciousness, let alone bleed off the continuously building energy.

She screamed again, straining her voice until all that came out was a raw growl. Something snapped in her as she hit the surface of the soiled Pool of Radiance and her world was suddenly bathed in a bright azure flare.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Highden**

Keiichi carefully stepped over a large root in the deepening darkness and moved into the grove he'd selected for his altar. Brother Evandur had been ecstatic to hear that he wanted to learn more about the proper forms of building and consecrating an altar. At first it seemed an odd request coming from the consort of a goddess, but after Keiichi had explained that he'd never really needed to build a place of prayer before, Evandur understood his dilemma.

Looking back on their discussions, Keiichi had known some of the process instinctually, but even coming from a society as steeped in ritual and tradition as the Japanese, he was still a product of modern society and had to admit ignorance in what it took to build an altar. Evandur had read a number of texts to him, allowing Keiichi to take his own notes and helped answer questions when he'd had them.

The first step was obviously finding a place for the altar. Evandur had cited that the location was probably more important than the actual edifice, simply because it had to be a place where the symbols of his goddess were at their strongest. It had taken Keiichi days to find the perfect spot. At first he'd thought of using a small corner of the shop, but upon reflection, he felt that was more suited to Skuld than to his Belldandy. He'd taken to going on long walks in the mornings until he literally stumbled upon this small grove just northwest of the town's border. It was private and had an opening in the canopy of trees that allowed for a spectacular view of the sky. It reminded him of the many times that he had encountered Belldandy singing to the trees and animals that lived near the shrine. It was just the type of place that he'd find her in, if he'd been at home.

The second step was selecting materials to build the altar. Evandur went into great depth about the power of symbols and their importance in worship, but Keiichi couldn't fathom what types of materials Belldandy preferred. He pestered Evandur for ideas until the man began pestering him in turn for physical descriptions of the goddess. In the end, he had remembered some of the stories he'd heard Urd spin about "the old days" and how the Norns were always associated with the roots of Yggdrasil and upon searching his grove, he'd found an ancient Ash with a number of exposed roots. He'd also come across some symbols in a dwarven text of Duncan's that reminded him of the runes he'd seen the goddesses use from time to time. He couldn't remember which one was Belldandy's and so, he decided to carve them all into a large stone trapped in the roots of the tree at Duncan's suggestion.

The next step, dressing the altar, was something he was familiar with. He'd maintained shrines in his home as a little kid, and so he went about town looking for things that he knew Belldandy would love; a beautifully embroidered linen tablecloth, a fresh cutting of flowers from Sam's flower garden, and a sweet smelling incense were all purchased for his altar. Now, Keiichi knelt humbly before the tree and gently laid them all out at the base of the stone he'd carved the symbols in.

Last but not least, Evandur had said that he needed a personal sacrifice…something that was important to him to prove his sincerity and dedication to his goddess. Of all the memories to jump to his mind, the time Urd had made all his hair fall out stood out the most. So, very delicately, Keiichi took up his knife and cut a lock from his head and placed it at the center of the linen cloth.

Keiichi closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't know what to expect from this, but Evandur said not to look for signs and whatnot. After all, prayer was supposed to be more a test of his faith, than a test of his goddess' love.

He bowed his head and closed his eyes; starting tentatively, uncertain what words he should use.

"Uhm…Belldandy-chan, I don't know if you can hear me or not…shoot, I don't even know if I'm doing this right…." A feeling of complete foolishness and great anxiety overwhelmed him, forcing him to his feet. He began to pace nervously before the altar. Evandur had suggested that he try and visualize her in his mind, and simply talk to her as if she were there.

"Dang, I miss you Bell. I don't know what happened to get me sent here, or how I'm supposed to get home, but I'm doing my best to keep busy and not think about being stuck in a place so far away from you. I've been making friends and helped one of them finish a project he's been struggling with. I'm sorry I haven't done this before now. You know…praying and all. It wasn't something that occurred to me might help. Another friend of mine, Sister Maerdith, chewed me out for not showing more gratitude to you. Heh. It's just like me to get wrapped up in things and forget to call you."

Keiichi knew he was babbling, but a sense of serenity washed over him as he poured out his soul to his long lost goddess. The moon rose and fell again, but Keiichi hardly noticed. He told of his experiences to date, laughing at the memory of arriving buck-naked in the middle of a religious ceremony. He spoke of the excitement over the sewing machine and the Iron Horse, and he expounded on Duncan's problems with Haroun Mostana.

"How can I help him Belldandy?" He ran a hand through his shaggy hair and threw up his other in frustration. "I don't want him to get in trouble because of me. He and Sam have been so good to me…I just…I just…"

Had he been less absorbed in his thoughts, Keiichi might have been able to step over the root that caught his toe. By the time he realized he was falling, it was too late.

"Oh! Crap!"

Crack!

Pain lanced through his skull from where his forehead impacted the side of the stone in the roots. His head swam with dizziness as he struggled to right himself against the small boulder. A damp, sticky, warmth trickled down into his eyes and dribbled onto the stone. He raised his fingers to the wound and saw them come away red in the waning moonlight. He leveraged himself against the stone, smearing blood across three of the carvings he had made in its surface.

As he turned away, the runes began to glow beneath his fingers.

A wispy cloud of glowing white smoke began to rise from the stone, and was soon followed by two other tendrils – one gold and one red. He watched in awe as the smoke began to form into bodies.

The gold cloud solidified into a kind elderly woman. Her hair was white, and her skin was evenly bronzed. She was slightly hunched over and wore a simple gray silk dress. Her glowing, mischievous eyes were very familiar to Keiichi however.

"Urd?"

Her voluptuous body was gone, replaced by a form that reminded Keiichi of his grandmother. The old woman winked at him and inclined her head to the white cloud that was solidifying to her left. His eyes traveled up the figure, afraid to hope. By the time his eyes finally settled on Belldandy's timeless face, Keiichi was holding his nose tightly. Her blush only heightened her beauty. His own face was flushed at the white silk dress the mature woman wore. It reminded Keiichi of something from Urd's wardrobe.

"…Belldandy…gorgeous…." The goddess before him blushed even more.

SMACK!

Keiichi sighed from the dirt his head had been buried in. He waved at Skuld as he extricated himself and marveled at the changes in the girl before him. She was no longer a cute twelve year old. She, while younger looking than Belldandy, had the body of a mature young woman. She was dressed in form fitting armor with a plated skirt that showed off her muscular legs, and carried a wicked looking warhammer slung over one shoulder.

Keiichi could only stare in humility at the women before him. Power unlike anything he'd ever felt before wafted off of the three, making him feel tiny and insignificant. He started to talk, but stopped when the goddesses began to speak in unison.

"WE ARE COME, MORTAL SON OF ADAM, FROM ACROSS THE VOID AT THY BLOOD'S CALL."

Keiichi trembled in fear and awe at the way their voices intermixed with one another. The echoes of eternity danced in his ears, and for the very first time, he understood just who and what the sisters were.

"URD, NORN OF THE PAST, GODDESS OF DREAMS LONG FORGOTTEN."

Keiichi looked to Urd and noted that her body began to reshape itself into a more familiar form. The simple gray dress was replaced with something even racier than Belldandy's.

"VERTHANDI, NORN OF THE NOW, GODDESS OF PRESENT NEED."

Unlike Urd, Belldandy's form and attire did not change. Something Keiichi was secretly grateful for.

"SKULD, NORN OF THE FUTURE, GODDESS OF THINGS TO COME."

Skuld's body didn't change either, but her warhammer seemed to grow a bit larger, and if possible more menacing.

"BE AT PEACE BELOVED OF THE NORNS, AND SPEAK THY HEART."

Keiichi blinked at that and looked at each goddess in turn. Tears were in their eyes and he noted that his vision was becoming blurry too. He wanted to run to them and embrace them, but he felt uncertain if it was something a mortal could do. Belldandy giggled and answered the question for him – bending down and kissing away the wound on his forehead. A tingling raced through his body and he felt incredibly refreshed.

"Hello dear. How are you?"

Keiichi enveloped her in a hug and kissed her passionately.

"Oi!" Skuld groused. "Stop molesting my sister, pervert! Our provisional visas only give us a little bit of time here so tell us what you want already!"

"Give them a break, Squirt. Let love run its course." Urd poked her sister in the side of the head. Keiichi finally broke the kiss and tried to organize his thoughts enough to ask the questions that had weighed on him over the last few weeks.

"I didn't expect you to come…I mean I didn't know what to expect, but you being here wasn't one of them. I just figured that you couldn't reach me." Belldandy's smile faded a bit.

"We wanted to Keiichi, but there are rules that had to be observed first. We couldn't cross over until someone called upon our names and offered a proper tribute. We would have been here sooner if it had been possible." Keiichi smiled and stroked Belldandy's face lightly.

"I've missed you so much. My dreams haven't done you justice." Belldandy blushed more and turned for his benefit, causing his eyes to bug. Skuld made a gagging gesture with her finger and rolled her eyes, earning a slap upside the head from Urd for her trouble. When Keiichi's gaze started to wander over Belldandy's form, Skuld's hammer fell again in retribution, smacking him in the face.

Belldandy frowned at her little sister as a snickering Urd pulled out a little mirror for Keiichi's benefit. The word "Pervert" was branded across his forehead in bright purple letters. Abashed, Skuld waved her hand and wiped the mark away, but Keiichi was still the recipient of her glare o' doom. Urd helped Keiichi to sit up again, and settled across from him while Belldandy snuggled up behind him. Skuld settled herself on one of the roots and began tinkering with a gadget.

"Okay, Keiichi-chan. Listen up. We've got a lot to do and only a little time to do it in. So sit back and pay close attention." He nodded as Urd motioned for Belldandy to lead off the discussion.

"There was an event at the System Operations Office that ended up pulling you and two other people from Earth into this world." Belldandy began stroking his hair, holding him close.

"You mean there are two people from our world trapped here too?"

"Don't interrupt." Urd scolded. She nodded to Belldandy to continue.

"Yes. They are very nice people and I will try to tell you more about them if there is time. However there are more important matters to discuss. The Ultimate Force is currently working to fulfill your wish, but in order to do so you must be here for a time. Unfortunately, we are forbidden to directly interfere with this test."

"Test? What test? How do I pass something that I haven't even studied for?" Belldandy took his face in her hands and looked him deep in the eye.

"You are a very special man, Keiichi. A promise was made and the Powers of Heaven are moving to make them reality. Have faith and all will be well."

"Belldany's right, Keiichi. You've got what it takes to Ascend."

"URD!" Skuld hissed. "You can't say anything about that!"

"Duh! Squirt, if you'd take a peek, you'd see that someone's already spilled the beans to him."

Skuld's eyes closed tight in concentration only flare open furiously an instant later.

"PERVERT!"

THWAK!

"Keiichi!"

"What'd you do that for?"

"Did you see what he wanted to do to Belldandy on his birthday last year?"

Skuld and Belldandy blushed scarlet. Keiichi managed to groan in pain from his place in Belldandy's lap.

"Yeah, so?" Urd closed her eyes and smirked. "It's not like he'd ever have the guts to go through with it."

"But…but…that's so gross!"

"You only think so now, Squirt. Wait a few years."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SQUIRT, YOU OLD HAG!"

"HAG!"

Keiichi closed his eyes and sighed, attempting to ignore the familiar bickering.

"Bell-chan…how am I supposed to do this? How do I become a…a…you know?" Belldandy kissed him lightly and hugged him close. Even though she was nearly transparent she felt as real as she ever had. He could almost smell her….

"To me Keiichi, you are already divine." She tapped his nose and bathed him with her love. "Have faith in yourself. We know you can do this." She waved her arms wide and both Urd and Skuld stopped their squabbling. Urd gave him a thumbs up and a wink, while Skuld snorted and smacked him over the head with an incredibly thick book.

"Since you bled all over the altar like some creepy fanatic, I gotta give you something." Skuld growled. She smirked as the large tome dropped painfully into his lap. "You asked for help with your friend's problems, so here. This is my notebook from Primary School. It should give you some ideas." She frowned and put her hands on her hips menacingly. "But, I'm taking it back in ten days! And you better not read any of the private stuff either!" The small goddess of the future slapped her hammer in her hands in order to show how serious she was.

Keiichi nodded and swallowed hard.

"My turn! We might not be able to aid in your ascension, but no one said that we couldn't help you fit in here a little easier." Urd grinned and shoved Skuld out of the way with her hip. With a mighty flourish, she produced a large bottle of a bright, incandescent, blue green liquid. "Here you go! Drink up!"

Keiichi eyed the bottle in his hands and grimaced.

"What's it do?"

"It's an Urd Super Potion tm!" The goddess of the past declared triumphantly. "Just what you need in a time like this!"

"You didn't answer my question." Keiichi deadpanned.

"A little bit of this and a little bit of that." Urd smiled and waved dismissively, but said no more. Keiichi sighed and looked at the potion with trepidation. When Urd's foot started tapping angrily, Keiichi sighed and downed the entire contents in one massive gulp.

It was like swallowing a Maltov cocktail with a blueberry cordial chaser. Keiichi's eyes began to water and he felt something…distinctly odd. Urd's grin became very serious as she began ticking things off on her fingers.

"Don't swim for an hour or you'll sink like a rock. Open flames and you are not a good idea for at least forty-eight hours. Be sure to eat lots of greens and carrots over the next two months to get your coloring back, drink lots and lots of water, and…sorry about the hair."

Skuld, much to Keiichi's astonishment, swept him up into bone crunching hug and told him to hurry home. Urd kissed him on the forehead, causing a tingling sensation to course through his body, and then stepped back next to her little sister. He held the empty bottle out to her but she didn't take it.

"But what's it do?" Keiichi whimpered as Urd and Skuld slowly disappeared. He sighed in defeat and allowed himself to relax against Belldandy. The Norn of the Present smiled compassionately and wrapped her arms around his chest.

"I too must give you a boon for your blood, Keiichi." She whispered coyly. "Will you accept my gift as well?"

Keiichi stroked her face lovingly.

"Your love is the greatest gift I could ask for."

Belldandy's eyes were bright with tears of joy as she embraced him tightly. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with power and authority.

"TO YOU, I GIVE ALL LOVE!"

Keiichi felt something within him change. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that he wasn't the same man he had been an hour ago. The air seemed crisper, the sky seemed bluer, and everything seemed so much more…real. A warmth settled deep in his heart and the entire world seemed at peace.

"Thank you for coming." He whispered. He could feel the weight of time over them and knew that she would be leaving soon. "Can I call you again sometime?"

"I will always hear you, Keiichi-chan." She kissed him passionately, with a fierceness that chilled him. When their lips broke from each other, she was crying.

"Wherever you are, my dearest Keiichi, I will see you. Wherever you go, I will walk with you. I may not be able to act on your behalf or speak to you directly during this trial, but I will never forsake you. Always remember that the Ultimate Force is working on your behalf." He reached up and brushed away the nearly transparent tears. His lips found hers again, and his heart ached for the moment to last forever. Sadly, she was starting to fade. "Come home soon."

"I will." He said fervently. Sun light began to filter in through the treetops, and then she was gone.

"Somehow, I will." Keiichi sat in the grove for a very long time, basking in the peace that Belldandy had given him. He remembered too late that he had many more questions that had been left unanswered, and it wasn't until an hour later that he noticed the color of his skin. He must have been right about the blueberry cordial, for his skin was a luminescent bluish purple. When he felt his scalp, he began to weep.

"Bald again…."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Myth Drannor**

Khindristryx strained as the elf-witch pushed her away yet again. The air around the dracolich was super charged with the ambient magical energy that was rolling off the maiden from the Phaerimm's spell. There was no time for subtlety or finesse. Already the small glowing star was falling into her sanctum. The undead dragon scrambled for purchase as she clutched at the power of the well. Her mind was already aflame and there was little doubt that her body was burning as well. There was no turning back from this and she doubted that even the magic binding her to the phylactery would be strong enough to keep her spirit tied to this plane should she fail to gain control of the pool.

Khindristryx felt her body disintegrate as the power of the pool suddenly consumed what was left of her mortal body. She attempted to jump to the corpse of a lesser red that she had lured to its death, but as she had theorized, the pool held her fast.

Panic set in as the dracolich realized her folly. Such was hubris, to realize at the final moment of one's life, the idiocy of recklessness. Something hit the surface of the pool and the power spiked incredibly. The dracolich silently roared in impotent frustration as her soul was totally consumed by the sudden instability in the magical flows of the pool.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Ranma hit the pool with enough force to send, for a lack of a better metaphor, the liquid magic splashing throughout the chamber. He felt his body shifting uncontrollably between male and female. He would have cursed had he the strength, but the taint of the pool immediately set about poisoning his system even more than tapping the dead land's ki had, but he absorbed it willingly any way. Something in him relished the darkness and welcomed it, even as another, equally alien part of him attempted to reject it. A new battle began, only this time it was at the center of his soul.

Darkness sought supremacy over the Light and Chaos sought to dominate Order. Ranma, ever the focal point, was caught in the middle of the spiritual tug of war. He thought he heard female voices screaming at him, but the familiar tug of war was not imaginary. Fatigued and beyond conscious pain, Ranma floated amidst the magic, drawing it in and filtering it through his unstable soul, harnessing it to keep him alive when he knew he should be very, very dead.

Something shifted as Ranma tried to seize command over himself once more.

He was so sick of being fought over. He was fed up with people trying to control him. He was his own man damnit and he wasn't going to lose control of his life again. It was time for him to make the calls, and damn anyone who thought differently!

Enraged, yet completely focused, he reached deep within himself and seized the opposing forces, resolutely holding them at bay. More power flowed through him and he felt his flesh burning anew. It felt as though a sun had been born inside his chest, and then something else within him…twisted. Magic mixed with magic, threading together until it was no longer unique streams, and Ranma felt his blood turn to ice. It felt as though his body was going to explode and freeze simultaneously, and he reflexively sought to release the pent up power that coursed through his system.

He screamed and Myth Drannor screamed with him as the Pool of Radiance exploded in a bright flash of darkness.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The Phaerimm for all its cunning and intellect could not escape from the chamber in time. It felt the build up of power and knew that there was no way that it would be able to gain control over of the mystic well before it went critical. It tried to teleport, with no success. Likewise, it's Dimension Door spell failed – blocked by the chaotic maelstrom of magic tearing the area apart. The creature was left a single recourse, flying out the way it flew in. Even now, it could feel the waters churning and boiling uncontrollably beneath it, like a tiny angry sea. It cursed it's all around vision as the initial wave consume the chamber.

Suddenly, without warning, the energy within the belly of the palace collapsed into a small four-foot sphere of azure tinted blackness. Large tendrils of cerulean energy lanced off and struck the walls of the chamber, grounding the magical energy as it finally went critical.

The air itself seemed thick with wild unpredictable magic that caused the Phaerimm to tremble even as it sought to escape the inevitable doom. It had almost made it to the outside of the Palace, when the sphere shrank further, becoming a pinprick of glowing blue light. A sudden scream of ecstatic release ripped through the area pushing the abomination up and out into the stormy night sky. Elated, the Phaerimm felt safe at last, until the Pool of Radiance exploded into a forceful geyser of blue light, immediately consuming the unnatural entity and everything within a four-mile radius of the palace. The geyser punched heavenward, incinerating the clouds as it went.

Then, as sudden as it began, the magical energies reversed themselves. The shockwave from the sudden reversal leveled the land in a perfect circle for ten miles from the epicenter. A great, circular wind sprang to life in and around the ruined city, kicking up a dark cyclone of ash and debris over a mile wide. Had there been anything alive to witness the event, they would have observed countless multitudes of elven spirits swimming in the current of the winds…inexorably being drawn to the center of their once proud capital and into the soul of a young man that floated at the heart of the magical maelstrom. They would have witnessed the climax of the phenomenon, and been privy to a most unusual gathering of entities. The gods themselves had come to witness the advent of something new and unique among the pantheons of magic and elves.

The heavens heralded the event with a shower of stars that exploded into the ruins of the once fair Myth Drannor and truly the foundations of the earth trembled beneath their rain. The clouds opened and added their tears as testament to the final passing of a noble dream of unity and prosperity. But even among the ashes of death, a new hope was born.

Ranma Saotome, he who would be known as Glauenthiel, The Well of Souls among the elven peoples, was born. The Hand of Change had risen, and the foundations of the world would truly shake with his passing.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Myth Drannor**

Elminster's portable tower

Dinner had come and gone. Breakfast had come and gone. It had neared mid-morning before Elminster was finally ready to cast his spell. He and Valor had both donated a vial of their blood to tie themselves to the Quest spell; and while much of the enchantment was beyond the drow's understanding, Valor knew that no matter where on Toril Ranma Saotome went, she and Elminster would be able to follow.

The Old Mage led her to the pinnacle of the tower with the spell focus, a small mirror etched with the likeness of Ranma's face, and set about triggering the numerous spells he'd cast on it the night before. The balustrade was bathed in a pulsating light that shifted colors sporadically from the focus. A pair of luminescent blue stars, rose calmly from the mirror and orbited the wizard and his scribe. Valor watched the glowing ball of light spin closer and closer to her, in tandem with Elminster's star, eliciting a tingling sensation to dance across the surface of her skin.

All at once the magical lights paused before the hearts of their targets, then shot forward with the speed of a bullet into their bodies. At that same instant, not all that far away, the target of the spell became something more than either Valor, or her patron had ever expected.

The drow screamed as something in the magic affecting her changed. Had she been more aware of her surroundings at the moment, she would have heard Elminster mimicking her. Indeed, all across Faerun, those in tune with magic felt yet another change sweep through the Weave. Sorcerers in particular felt the shift most intimately, and in their minds and hearts came to feel the birth of a new god of magic. A name came to their lips readily, even if they didn't understand what the word meant.

And that name was Ranma.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Hemmerling**

"RANMA!"

Usagi gasped and sat up abruptly. The sheets of the bed she found herself in were covered in sweat and her body was aglow with a silver nimbus. Beside her bed, Ulin was in much the same disheveled state. There was a question on her lips, but Usagi brushed her aside in order to dress.

"What are you doing?" Ulin demanded.

"I'm going to help him!" Usagi countered.

"Who?"

Usagi frowned at the silly question.

"Ranma, of course!"

"And who is this, Ranma?" Ulin had crossed her arms, and watched Usagi expectantly.

"Ranma is…is…" Usagi rubbed her temple anxiously.

"What does he look like?" Ulin pressed.

"Tall, yummy tush…" Usagi closed her eyes to get a better picture.

"…Dark hair pulled into a tight little braid…" Ulin finished. Usagi stared at the jade skinned woman blankly for a moment before nodding.

"How…?"

"He was in my dreams too." Ulin frowned slightly and then shrugged. "I suspect that he was in a number of people's dreams, waking and asleep."

"But why? I mean, what does it mean?"

"Who can say?" Ulin shrugged again. "I believe that it's safe to assume that he's a fairly powerful individual, perhaps even a new force among the gods of magic. If that is the case, then we will hear more about him in our travels."

"But what if he's not? I mean, what if he's hurt?"

"Even if we could help, do you know where he is?" Ulin placed her hand on her friend's shoulder and Usagi shook her head. "Neither do I. So we'll just have to offer a prayer for him and hope it's enough."

Usagi nodded and allowed the silence to stretch between them. Ulin waited for a long time before breaking the quiet.

"I'd like to apologize for the things I said before the battle. I…I was afraid that I had lost you."

"I'm sorry too." Usagi looked out the large window and sighed. "I guess I wasn't ready to talk about the things that have been bothering me lately."

"A great deal has happened." Ulin conceded. "But that doesn't mean you should carry the burden alone."

Usagi nodded.

"It's hard though. Some of the dreams I've been having are scary and strange."

"It comes from the stress of leadership."

Usagi shook her head and tossed her nightgown over a large chair. She dug in her saddlebags until she found a blouse and skirt that weren't too dirty. She was going to have to do the wash today…if anyone let her.

"It's not that, although it might be part of it." She sighed and sat back down on the bed. "No. It was more real than that. I…I…Oh, who am I kidding, you'll probably think I was crazy. I think I'm crazy!"

"No one will think you're crazy, Usagi. Not after seeing you fight Kelemvor himself." The displaced Senshi looked up at Ulin blankly through her silver bangs.

"Kelemvor?"

"The Lord of Death. We saw you face off against him during the attack."

Usagi fairly leapt from the bed again.

"Ohmigosh! The attack! Is everyone okay?"

Ulin caught her by the shoulders before the frantic girl could get past her, and eased her back to the bed with a comforting smile.

"I would say that everyone is more than okay. In fact, I can assure you that not one life was lost in the conflict, on either side." Usagi's anxiety deflated. "That does bring up another topic for discussion."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Something…miraculous…happened on the battlefield, Usagi." Ulin paused, obviously looking for the right words to describe the event. "Everyone stopped when you and Kelemvor faced off. We watched you defying Death."

Ulin, unable to contain her emotions, began to cry.

"You were so beautiful…radiant even! And when you gave yourself up in ransom…a blinding silver light flashed from your heart. The light swept over the battlefield mending wounds, reviving the dead, and burning the evil from our attackers hearts. You changed us. I can't explain how, I just know that you did."

The Genasi looked up, eyes filled with tears and fear.

"What is this power that you have? Are you a goddess made flesh?"

Usagi swallowed and shook her head frantically.

Ulin bobbed her head. "I wanted to be angry with you, because it seemed that you had burned something vital from everyone on the battlefield. It felt like you had stolen our ability to choose right from wrong."

Usagi was speechless. What could she say to these questions? It had always been a silent fear in the back of her mind, ever since learning of Crystal Tokyo. She'd never spoken of her fears and reservations to the other Senshi, and now…when faced with this…. She wasn't sure how to react.

"I…I'm sorry…. I didn't mean for this…."

"Shhhh." Ulin placed a long jade finger over her friend's lips. "I've been thinking about it quite a bit over the last few hours, and I've come to a realization." She paused looking Usagi square in the eyes. "Nothing was taken from us. You simply showed us our evil and offered us forgiveness for our crimes and petty faults. We chose to accept your offer, and were remade into something better. We still have the ability to choose, but why would someone want to walk away from something so wonderful?"

"What about the monsters? Those wolfman things."

"The Gnolls accepted your offer as well, and came away changed like everyone else." Ulin smiled warmly. "They are calling themselves the Loras now, and have asked to see you at your earliest convenience."

Usagi groaned. People were going to start treating her even weirder now! Darn it! Why couldn't she be a normal average teenage girl? What had she done to deserve being a superhero and a magical princess? How come she had to get sucked into all these stupid adventures any way? She hated this!

"Don't worry about it too much, Little Princess. Your dragon will guard you." Ulin stroked Usagi's head and kissed her hair. Usagi simply cried tears of frustration.

"I don't want this, Ulin! I don't want to be the 'Silver Princess' or 'Sailor Moon!' I just want to be plain old Usagi. Why can't I just be like everyone else?"

"There is nothing wrong with that desire, dear heart. But this is a part of who you are. There is nothing that says you have to be the 'Silver Princess' or this 'Sailor Moon' persona you detest so much. You do not have to embrace the expectations of others. You define who you are, but you must learn to accept all aspects of yourself. If you cannot, I fear that you will destroy yourself from the inside out."

Usagi paused thoughtfully and nodded.

"Be at peace, Little Princess. You will find your own path. I don't know where this destiny will lead you, but rest assured that I will be by your side every step of the way. I will see to it that you live to fulfill your life's purpose…even if it costs me my own life."

Usagi looked up at Ulin sharply and something in her heart lurched. A promise freely given…a mantle knowingly assumed…the conviction of Ulin's declaration was answered by the Ginzuisho as it floated from the center of Usagi's heart. Power immediately flooded the room, lifting Ulin from the floor. She cried out in ecstasy as the magic of the crystal endowed her with the power to make good on her promise.

When the magic faded, Usagi looked down at Ulin's armored body and blinked. Her new clothing was very reminiscent of Galaxia's armor, but there was a harder edge to the whole ensemble. The silver metal was thin and flexible, with etched runes and gems decorating the trim. An odd rune flared to life on the Genasi's brow and a pillar of light shot heavenward. Usagi could think of only one thing to say, when faced with the newest of her Senshi.

"HOLY CRAP!"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**The Plane of Shadow**

Shar raged and her world tore itself asunder. Her anger knew no bounds, and those tied to her through faith and magic suffered her wrath. Those that had the ability, fled her realm. Those that could not were consumed by her fury.

"I WILL RECLAIM WHAT IS MINE!" It took a small eternity for her wrath to play itself out, and to Shar's surprise it was replaced with an indescribable hunger.

"I will reclaim what is mine, Ranma Saotome." Shadows boiled to life around her throne, forming themselves into the likeness of a handsome young man. "I will make you mine and you will pleasure me. I will see you willingly serve my cause, and through you, I will take back all that I lost, and whatever power you happen upon."

Shar's laughter echoed chillingly throughout the Plane of Shadow. And throughout the scope of her influence, the images of a young man and a young woman were imbedded into the minds of her most faithful servants. The Lady of Loss buried an obsessive need to capture these people in the hearts of her followers, and laughed again at the thought of bringing Ranma to kneel before her.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Dweomerheart**

Mystra appeared in the main throne room of her court, amidst an unusual, albeit not unexpected gathering of gods. Azuth, Savras, and Velsharoon stood in uneasy company as Mystra ascended the steps to her throne in silence.

"My Lady…"

Mystra held up her hand as Azuth approached.

"Hold your peace for the moment, Lord Azuth. We await the arrival of a few more guests before we will proceed."

The Patron of Mages nodded and stepped back to his place next to Mystra's throne. After a moment, four distinct lights flared announcing the arrival of the Moon Goddess Selune, Kelemvor the Lord of the Dead, Corellon Laraethian the God of Elves, and the Elven Goddess Sehanine Moonbow.

"Ao's Peace be upon all. Be welcome to my realm and rest assured in your safety." The gathered deities bowed respectfully to the Mother of Magic. "My thanks for coming with such haste."

"How could we not?" Corellon smirked. "Young Ranma poses something new and exciting for everyone here."

"I wouldn't have phrased it so, Lord Coronal." Azuth frowned. "But the sentiment is accurate enough. The Weave has been tainted by this boy's touch, and already the ramifications are being felt."

"More than you know, Spell Lord." Mystra whispered. "More than you know."

"Are you unwell, Lady?" Velsharoon's skeletal grin did nothing to hide the demigod's hopes for a positive response. The opportunity for power was always attractive, especially to one of Velsharoon's standing.

"Your concern is duly noted, Lich." Mystra's smile was frigid. "Sadly, I must disappoint you with my answer. I am fine, and the Weave will settle with time."

"What then is to become of this Ranma character?" Savras asked.

"Can you not see the outcome, Savras the All-Seeing?" Azuth taunted.

"I see many outcomes, Lord Azuth. Some are favorable, and some not…especially for you." The god of seers grinned nastily.

"Enough bickering!" Mystra's patience was thin, and she had no desire to deal with infighting. "Ranma will declare his own path, as he has so ably demonstrated. To ease the strain on the Weave, I have given him dominion over sorcerers and those that naturally channel magic without the aid of book, scroll, or artifact. Beyond that he will forge his own trail."

"You have given him a large portfolio, Lady of Mysteries." Selune said.

"Ao has granted him dominion over the Shadow Weave." Everyone save Corellon hissed in surprise. "His portfolio reflects Ao's trust."

"Me thinks it reflects more than that." Kelemvor snorted. There was a thin veneer of jealousy hidden behind his smile. Mystra's eyes narrowed.

"I did not ask for your opinion, Lord Kelemvor. Should Ranma look for my company, he is welcome to it – in any form he desires." Mystra said proudly. "Have a care that your words do not tempt me to finish the oh-so-recent beating my daughter gave you." The Lord of the Dead backed away with a smile and hands raised in defeat.

"The reason for this meeting is not to discuss, bedmates and consorts. It is to establish an understanding of Ranma's place among us." Mystra turned to the elven deities. "Your gift was generous Corellon, incredibly so. However, I do not understand all of the subtleties behind it. Could you explain how he will impact the rest of us?"

The Lord of Elves bowed gracefully.

"There has been a vacancy in our pantheon crying to be filled for eons. Too long have the souls of our bastard children wandered without guidance or representation. Lady Moonbow has many worshippers among the half-elves, but her other duties have always taken precedence. She has seen young Ranma's heart and feels that he will be the perfect patron for these wayward children. The fact that he has acted as a repository for the souls trapped in Myth Drannor, has gone a long way to aiding Sehanine find peace as well. We are thus granting him a secondary responsibility as her attendant, to aid in gathering lost and restless souls."

"Will this not conflict with Lord Kelemvor's domain?" Velsharoon asked.

"No. Although he may impact your interests quite severely, Lich." Sehanine growled. "Ranma will be my attendant, and act as a guide and protector to those souls that cannot find their way to me. He perchance may work in tandem with Lord Kelemvor, should he so choose, but his primary responsibility will remain our half-elven children."

"And his magical aspect?" Azuth asked pointedly. "How will that interact with your pantheon?"

"As he is an attendant to Lady Moonbow, he will become an aide to me as well. I look at young Ranma as a bridge rather than a division, between our two pantheons." Corellon bowed to Mystra, who returned the gesture.

"As it should be, Lord Coronal. We are and always shall remain friends and allies. May this new opportunity be fruitful in furthering that end." Mystra paused a moment, looking troubled. "I cannot but be concerned how Ranma will receive the news of his divinity though. We did not have the opportunity to explain ourselves to him, and he is now closed to us."

"Might I remind you, Lady," Azuth interjected. "…that he will have to appear before Lord Ao at some point, before his divinity is sanctioned. Until such has occurred, he will simply be an extremely powerful mortal."

"Immortal." Corellon corrected.

"As you say, Lord Coronal."

"This will happen in due course. In the mean time, it is obvious that Ranma will need looking after." Selune said.

"The Auditor…" Mystra frowned slightly. "The Auditor has assured me that he has been taken in hand, and judging by her choice of mentors, I cannot disagree."

"Who was chosen?" Selune asked.

"Elminster of Shadowdale."

Corellon and Sehanine smiled and nodded at the choice. The Archmage had helped found Myth Drannor, and had been a good friend to the elves over the years.

"How will this impact your plans, Selune?" Mystra asked.

"It changes a great many things, but not terribly so. My children still seek him out, and I will approach him myself if need be. Perhaps together you and I can convince him to aid in hampering Shar's interests."

Sehanine frowned.

"This brings up another matter altogether. If young Ranma is now Master of the Shadow Weave, how will Shar respond?"

Selune shrugged, but it was Mystra that answered.

"Who can say with her? She will not tempt Ao's wrath, I am certain. That doesn't mean that she will simply leave the Shadow Weave to Ranma."

"No." Selune agreed. "Shar will most likely attempt to seduce Ranma, luring him to her camp through subtlety and false promises. Once there, she will slowly strip him of his power. There are many loopholes in Ao's Decree concerning Ranma and the other two. Shar will undoubtedly try to exploit those to her benefit."

"She will have a devil of a time seducing him, that is certain!" Mystra laughed. There were many confused glances until Mystra opened her mind and replayed a few select memories for those gathered.

"Hanali is going to enjoy playing with this one." Sehanine smirked impishly.

"There is no doubt." Mystra smiled knowingly.

"If I may be so bold…" Azuth interrupted. "I am seeing a pattern that must be acknowledged and respected in our planning." Mystra motioned for him to continue.

"Ranma is a bridge between the elven pantheon and the human pantheon through his dual calling. He is also a bridge between the Light and Dark, by virtue of his dual command of the Weave and the Shadow Weave. It is my belief that Lord Ao is using Ranma as a buffer between the hereditary oppositions."

"Interesting insight, Azuth." Mystra nodded. "I wonder how the others will fit into the grand scheme of things."

"The Norns are active in their champion's life here." Selune said, drawing many stares and a few surprised gasps. "He is already starting to shake things up among the Gondar."

"Good." Azuth snorted. "It's about time someone did."

"He will be a force to be reckoned with…" Savras' voice took on a dreamy quality.

"What do you see, Savras?" Velsharoon asked.

"He is the keystone. At some point he may well become as powerful, if not more so, than our dear Ranma."

"And what of Serenity?" Selune asked.

"Ask dear Kelemvor. My daughter challenged him and won." Mystra said with a wicked grin. The Lord of the Dead shook his head and smiled.

"She has tamed my heart. I have never met a soul so pure." He smiled wistfully and looked out into the ether. "I pity the fools that dare to challenge them, should those three ever join forces."

"Indeed." Savras shivered.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Myth Drannor**

Zueez bent his head against the wind, squinting his eyes the best he could against the rain that kept obscuring his vision. He had seen the flash of light and felt the heat of the explosion from where he had finally come to rest after watching his goddess battle the evils of Myth Drannor. The primal struggle against the impressive powers of the infernal horde and his kin was more telling than anything that he had seen her do.

The drow had seen a great many things in his life, but none had been more magnificent than what she had shown him. She was the Unbreakable One. The Crimson Death. She had faced the denizens of true evil and wiped them from the face of Toril. It had made him question the very core of his morality. He knew, in that moment, that he would have to choose the path that he would walk for the rest of his life. Would he embrace her love and follow the righteous path of redemption that she had so obviously opened to him? Or would he shy away from her offering and hold to the cowardice and treachery that he had been taught since birth?

The stars fell from the heavens before him, striking the ruins of Myth Drannor with a vengeance. They tore into the earth, creating a number of small basins that were quickly filling with water.

The vista was an epiphany, filled with symbolism.

She didn't want him to change completely…at least not all at once. He likened his soul to that of the earth before him. The power of the heavens would destroy one's weaknesses and replace them with life giving strengths.

The whole event was incredible, not simply for the things that had happened to Zuieez, but for the simple miracle of a cold hearted, murderous drow finally seeing beyond the self-consuming treachery that ruled his life.

He laughed and spun in the rain joyously. His heart soared on the winds and in his blind happiness he didn't notice how close he had come to the edge of a cliff over looking the field of pools. He cried out to his goddess and professed his undying love for her, promising to serve her forever more.

His foot slid in the mud and before he knew what was happening he tumbled into the air. He never had a chance to curse his luck, or even to think about the unfairness of it all. All he knew in that last brief moment of his life, was that hitting water from a great height really hurt like the Nine Hells.

The water that broke his body flared to life with powerful magics, and subsequently consumed his soul. The pool boiled and frothed for a moment, then all was still.

And so it was that Fendrellinor, the Pools of Sorrow, claimed their first tragic story. Hours would pass after the divine storm ended and a sparrow would drink from the pool that would later be known as Dodrowsendi, the Spring of Drowned Penitent Drow. Its magic would change the bird into the Voice of the Pools. Thus the first holy site to Glauenthiel, the Well of Souls, also known as Ranma Weave Bender, was created.

The more things change….

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

_**End Realms Chapter 6**_


	9. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them. Note:  
A quick note about timelines - Keiichi's installments are going to be a bit ahead of everyone else's, so if it seems like there's a discrepency in the passage of time now you know why.  
Special thanks go out to all of my faithful reviewers at and those that have taken the time to send me your thoughts and comments. Your positive support has made it possible for me to keep writing in spite of the hardships that real life has thrown at me this past year. I hope you enjoy this new installment of Realms!

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

**Realms**

**Chapter Seven**

* * *

Phaele Aligaurde, High Dweomerkeeper to the Temple of Stars, ran through the halls of Mystra's primary temple in Daerlun, intent on finding the Keeper of Mysteries. The hem of her robes was hiked well above the knees, exposing her long, shapely legs for all to see. Many of the acolytes paused to admire the all too brief flash of skin as Phaele followed the spell-guide the Keeper had cast to summon her. 

She climbed the stairs three at a time, ignoring the angry yells of more than one priest who had been jostled or bumped in her passing. The dark and stormy expression on her face was enough incentive for the younger journeymen to leap out of her way. Her long, chestnut-colored hair whipped in her wake like a pennant in an angry wind.

Why the Keeper had summoned her in this manner was beyond her. The spell-guide prevented teleportation of any kind, and the speed it was traveling at made it impossible for Phaele to cast anything that would aid or ease her own progress. Knowing the Keeper as she did, Phaele could already hear the rebuke from her mentor.

"Mystra's Grace is not an excuse to let your body grow fat and weak. She gave you a body for a reason, so you should care for it as much as you care for your spell books."

The fact that the old half-elven codger could outrun, out-wrestle, and out-eat anyone in the temple at the ripe old age of three hundred and seventy was something to admire. The fact that he took a wicked pleasure in pushing everyone to rely as much on their own bodies as their magic made more than one of the faithful grind their teeth in frustration. He seemed to take special pleasure in picking on a certain few, and Phaele was undoubtedly his favorite – most likely because she was the Keeper's only daughter which was, in itself, a dubious distinction that brought more problems than it usually solved.

As the young half-elven sorceress topped the last landing the spell-guide paused before the large, ornate doors of the main chapel, allowing her to catch her breath and collect herself before entering. Phaele smoothed her robes, and settled her hair with a quick spell, before approaching the heavy duskwood doors. The gilded, rune covered, doors parted for her, silently opening outward. The room, if one could call it that, on the other side of the doors was enchanted to resemble a dark blue void. A red, winding path of mists lead from the entrance to an altar surrounded at the cardinal points by eight blue-white stars. The addition of the eighth star had come only a few weeks ago, surprising the entire populous of the temple. Correspondence with other temples had revealed that their altars had been changed as well. It was a great mystery that, as of yet, remained unsolved. It was a fitting challenge for the clergy of Mystra, but one that was no longer the sole concern.

Other symbols floated throughout the chapel, each representing a deity of magic or an ally of the Mother of Magic. Azuth's hand, pointed ever upward and surrounded by blue fire, no longer floated in its customary place to the right of the altar, but had displaced Savras' thousand-eyed crystal ball to float on the left. To the right, where Azuth's token should have been, a new symbol floated. It was an oddly plain symbol: Two circles, one large and one small, bisected by a discordant, slightly curved, diagonal line. The smaller circle was situated at the direct center of the larger. One half of each circle was filled with an opposing color that shifted constantly – black opposed white, red opposed green, blue contrasted orange. Even as she watched, the circles began spinning contrary to one another creating a sphere of flashing colors.

The symbol's movements mesmerized Phaele. She felt drawn to it in a way that had never happened before when she looked upon the symbols of the other gods. It was disconcerting to say the least.

"Fascinating isn't it?" Phaele jumped at the sound of her father's voice. "It appeared last night just after the moon set."

"What, or rather who, does it represent?"

"That has yet to be revealed." The Keeper of Mysteries quirked his mouth in an odd grin that spoke volumes to Phaele. It was the same grin that appeared every time a new mystery presented itself to her ever-curious father. "Mystra has been silent on the nature of the symbol, but I suspect that the world will know soon enough."

Phaele nodded and turned her attention back to the symbol. She began to comment, but her father's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Did you dream last night?" It was an odd question, but she nodded. "Tell me about it, if you would."

"I saw a man that was not a man. The being was male and female, elf and man…." She paused uncertainly. "It wasn't very clear to me, to be honest."

The Keeper of Mysteries nodded quietly and turned his attention back to the new totem. Phaele again opened her mouth to comment, but her father interrupted her questions again – much to her frustration. She knew better than press him for information. He would reveal himself in his own time and it was pointless to force things.

"It's strange, the more that I look upon it, the more eager I become." The Keeper's voice was soft. His eyes narrowed slightly as he watched the symbol spin in wild and unpredictable patterns. Every so often, a bolt of silver or purple energy would lance out from the symbol. The energies would mix, becoming an iridescent indigo that would reach out and connect to Mystra's symbol briefly.

"There is an underlying heaviness about it…" Phaele noted.

"What does it feel like to you?" The Keeper prompted.

"Like…like the air before a thunderstorm." The High Dweomerkeeper's eyes narrowed as she continued to stare at the symbol. "There's something else as well…"

"Go on…"

"It's like a shadow…cool and peaceful, but dark and dangerous as well. I…" She shook her head. "I can't explain it adequately."

The Keeper nodded, smoothing his neatly trimmed, graying beard and mustache. His tapered ears twitched anxiously.

"I felt something similar."

"What shall we do? There will obviously be questions from the rest of the temple."

Before the Keeper could respond, one of the indigo tendrils stretched out and caressed Phaele's hand. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to call to her father, but no sound came out. Her knees gave out, but she didn't hit the floor of the chapel as expected. She simply hung in the air, fully supported by the iridescent blue thread of light. She looked to her father fearfully for a moment, and then the void of the chapel disappeared.

Phaele was uncertain who the handsome young man floating before her was. The one thing that came to mind was that this person was a force to be reckoned with. She tried to call to him, but found that she had no voice. Images flashed before her eyes too fast to follow, and then an ageless, heavenly voice filled her mind.

"Uh…hi. You're Phaele right?"

"Who are you?" She asked breathlessly. The man smiled, and Phaele's insides warmed. Her heart beat quickly and filled her with an undeniable sense of love.

"Ranma…."

* * *

Hadrhune, The Prince's Hand, parted his essence from the shadows of the Most High Telamont Tanthul's private throne room. He quickly knelt before his ruler, ignoring the strange symbol floating before the ruler of the City of Shade. The Prince's Hand knew the sigil very intimately by now. Every altar and temple dedicated to the Dark Goddess was now adorned with the mysterious icon. 

"Rise son of my heart." The aged voice of the High Prince seemed to echo as much in Hadrhune's mind as it did throughout the rest of the room. Hadrhune rose immediately, in a smooth flowing motion that defied gravity. Hadrhune's dusky, black skin seemed clouded by a shadowy mist that leaked from beneath his voluminous robes. He, like the rest of the Shadovar, had become something more and less than human during their time away from Toril – a being of shadows and darkness.

"Speak freely, Child."

"Our auguries have failed, my Lord Prince. Shar is silent and the outcome of her battle with Mystra is uncertain. However, our sudden inability to access the Shadow Weave, does not bode well."

The High Prince nodded, burying his concern deep beneath a mask of indifference.

"Are the Mythallar still unaffected?"

"Yes, my Lord. It seems all artifacts keyed to the Shadow Weave continue function as intended. It is only our ability as individuals and groups that seem hindered."

It was difficult for Telamont to keep the frown of displeasure from his face. For a society structured around one's magical strength, the sudden loss of power was something of great concern. The High Prince tapped the arm of his throne and fidgeted – something that he had never done in the two thousand years of his long life.

"And the youth from the visions?"

"None have been able to identify him, although many of the clergy have seen an untamed stallion associated with his image." Hadrhune pulled a fist-sized piece of smoky gray quartz from his robes and whispered to it. "Hazzath."

Once the trigger was spoken, the quartz began to glow. Hadrhune let his hand fall away from the magical artifact, letting it float freely in the air between Telamont and himself. Above the gem, numerous images recorded from the dreams of priests and seers played out for the High Prince.

"What is the significance of the red-haired she-elf?"

"Unknown. The divinations we have cast have been chaotic and unclear at best. Some believe her to be the youth's lover, others insist that she is his twin, while a very small group maintains that she and the boy are one in the same being."

Telamont looked from the images of the dark haired human and the red haired elf, and refocused his attention on the symbol floating before him.

"The human is the crux of this dilemma, Harhune. I want this mystery solved." He paused and looked down at his attendant grimly. "Confiscate every wishing device within the city if you must, but I want him brought to me."

"It shall be as you say, my Prince." Hadrhune paused for a moment until Telamont dismissed him, and then melted away into the shadows again.

* * *

Velprintalar, Capital of Aglarond 

It was a rare event – one that hadn't happened in almost a century or more. Seven of the world's most powerful individuals had gathered themselves around a single table and were celebrating the rebirth of one of their own. The revelry began a number of weeks past when Sylune, the First of the Seven, was renewed to mortality. Her return had been marked by a number of raucous parties, stately masquerades, bawdy songs, decadent feasting, and of course a hunting expedition or two. This last activity was a bit strange by anyone's standard, as the Simbul convinced her sisters to join her in an excursion into Thay.

To the Simbul's mind, hunting Red Wizards was the true sport of Queens, and Alassra had long since perfected it.

Many foolish Thayan wizards died during those weeks of revelry in Velprintalar, and the ranks of the Zulkirs were thinned considerably under the dutiful attentions of the Seven. Sylune happily rebuilt her magical stores from the labs and treasure vaults of the enclaves, and her sisters gifted her with the choicest pieces of their own booty in honor of her "Rebirthday."

Tonight's party was to be the last, in lieu of the weighty responsibilities that the Seven had assumed. Needless to say, it had begun as the most boisterous of their celebrations, but as night became early morning the pace had slowed and passions quieted. Storm enchanted a lyre to play a quiet tune that Sylune greatly favored, while the Seven cuddled on an oversized bed – sharing stories of their childhood and recollections of memorable lovers. It was in the midst of this reverie that the Seven felt the shift in the Weave.

They stiffened as the power surged through the room, with spells of death and destruction on their lips, and looked as one to the crackling fire in the hearth. Yellow flames became blue, and blue became silver. Seven floating embers lifted from the hearth becoming a set of orbiting stars, circling around the main body of the fire.

"Mother of Mysteries." Alustriel whispered reverently.

The hearts of the Seven knew joy as Mystra, in a rare and unprecedented manifestation, reached out through the stars to fill their hearts with her love. One by one they fell to their knees before the divine symbol, worshipping their goddess with vocal prayer and reverent thought. Images filled their minds as the goddess touched each in turn with a tendril of silver fire. Each saw themselves in a new light, or rather from a new perspective, and were humbled by what they saw.

"**Rise. Be not afraid.**"

The words were felt more than heard, and the sweetness of their sound left tears in the eyes of the sisters as they obeyed their goddess. To have pleased their goddess and found favor in her eyes…it was a dream come true.

"**I am Mystra. The Weaver. The Road Ascending. The One True Way.**" The voice of the goddess paused and the blue fire in the hearth flared, shaping itself into the form of a beautiful woman of flames. "**You are my daughters; seven bright stars among my Chosen, brought forth from the womb of my beloved Elue, Lady of the Gate, she who harbored my spirit for a time. You, like your mother before you, have brought me great comfort in your fidelity and please me with your service.**"

The flaming avatar moved forward to stand before each of the seven, beginning with Sylune, touching each woman's forehead with a blazing kiss that held no heat but a great deal of power. Each of the seven were blessed and felt empowered with strength and knowledge.

"**I have watched you often, enthralled by your daring and humbled by your love for me.**"

The thought of a goddess being humbled by a mortal seemed alien to the Seven, and Mystra perceived their wonder.

"**Be not amazed my daughters. All creatures, be they mortal or immortal, are subject to some of the same laws."** Mystra's fiery smile softened as she passed before each of her Chosen until her circuit came full circle, with her again standing before Sylune.

"**I come not to astound you, but to share in your love and celebration, and to bring you understanding and knowledge.**" Her face became solemn as she looked at the eldest of her daughters. For no reason that she could pinpoint directly, Sylune felt very uncomfortable about the expression.

"**First, you must realize that Sylune's gift was not orchestrated by my hand, nor was it ever my intent to restore her to a life of flesh and bone. Passing through Kelemvor's Veil is but another step along the path of Life, nor is death a true end for those in my service. My plans for Sylune required that she walk the face of Toril as a spirit, serving the interests of magic where a corporeal agent could not.**"

Expressions of fear and trepidation were prevalent on the faces of the gathered sisters, as each looked to Sylune. For her part, the eldest of the seven simply closed her eyes in silent acceptance of her fate, waiting for the inevitable touch of death to claim her anew. Mystra had never felt so loved by any of her supplicants. It was a faith that she meant to honor and reward. As the seven waited in solemn silence, Mystra held up a flaming hand to ease their concerns.

"**Rest easy, daughters. The gift was given by another and it is not my right to take it away.**"

Storm clutched her sister to her tightly and her joyous tears marked her sudden relief.

"**Do not think me cruel, for my love knows no bounds when I look upon you. Each of you serves a purpose, one that you cannot fully know or understand while in the flesh. Sylune's purpose was to be a silent servant, but the time of that service is now done and she has been set upon a new course.**"

Mystra fell quiet and allowed the sisters time to digest what she had said.

"What course, Mother of Magic?" Sylune asked reverently.

"**That I cannot say, dear Sylune, for it was not my hand that restored you.**"

"The boy…?" Sylune and Storm shared a look.

"**Ranma. Yes.**"

"This name…it is known to us." Storm spared her sisters a quick glance. They had all dreamed of this dark haired boy of late, but he had a more potent effect on those that practiced sorcery than those who did not. Alassra, Dove, Storm, and (not surprisingly) Sylune in particular had experienced vivid visions of this dark haired, stormy eyed boy. Storm and Sylune readily confirmed that he was the same being that had restored her to life.

"What is his role in all of this, Mother? There are many within my kingdom that have seen his face in the night, and have his name on their lips during the day." The Simbul looked almost feverish in her need to understand the mystery surrounding the boy in her dreams.

"**One that you must uncover for yourself, Daughter. His intentions and his counsel are his own to keep and I am not privy to his mind.**" Mystra paused and touched her bottom lip with the tip of her flaming finger. "**Suffice it to say that he is tied to the Weave…more so than most.**"

She looked to Alassra, Dove, Storm and Sylune pointedly, and smiled warmly.

"**I will not take offense if you pursue his attentions, do so with my blessing. But be patient in your seeking. He may not answer you as I have.**"

The goddess of magic again paused, giving the sisters time to process this information. Each looked to her in turn, pushing the mystery of the boy Ranma aside for the time being in favor of hearing her next words. Rather than speak the seven stars orbiting her head shot outward, hovering above the hearts of each of the sisters. The spectacle was startling, but each of the Seven held their gaze on the fiery avatar of their goddess.

At the center of the apparition's chest, a bright light appeared and slowly descended through the goddess' body until it settled in her womb. From there the light broke free, becoming an eighth star that rose to orbit the crown of the goddess. The other stars flared brightly in turn and sped back to their places, forming a tiara of tiny floating suns.

"**An eighth star, long lost to Toril's Weave, has returned. A Silver Princess of Serenity. She comes seeking a way to return to home and hearth, not knowing that she has already found it.**"

The avatar looked pointedly to Alustriel and smiled.

"**Prepare the way for her arrival, for she will be among you soon.**"

Stunned and unable to do naught but stare at one another, the Seven watched the flaming body of their goddess melt back into the hearth. The stars circled the embers eight times before vanishing in a series of rapid flashes.

With nothing to say on the matter Laeral, the Lady Mage of Waterdeep, demonstrated a certain amount of practicality in pouring herself a large glass of the strongest alcohol she could find and toasted Qilue Veladorn. The rest raised their glasses in tribute to the drow priestess of Elistraee and Mystra.

"To Qilue, who shall never more be the baby among the Seven." Qilue raised her glass in good mirth and smiled broadly.

"QILUE!"

The night drew longer still as plans were made for the next great meeting of the Seven, soon to be Eight. This up and coming revelry already seemed to outstrip Sylune's "ReBirthday" and should it fulfill a mere half of its itinerary, nations would tremble. It would be a celebration of legend.

Thay might survive, but truly there was no guarantee.

* * *

Highden  
The Isle of Lantan 

"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Keiichi smiled as Duncan rolled on the floor of the Steelwater living room and tried not to blush. Not that anyone would really notice a difference in his complexion…what with his new purplish-blue skin tone. He'd become quite used to the fallout from Urd's helping hands, so a little public embarrassment didn't bother Keiichi as much as it probably should have. If anything, Urd had helped him develop something of a sense of humor about such things.

Poor Sam, to her credit, wasn't sure how to react to the sight of her poor, bald and blue, houseguest. She bit her twitching lips and kicked her hysterical husband viciously in the ribs. Duncan snorted, winced, and upon seeing Keiichi again lost it again. The young man took it all in stride, waiting patiently for the dwarf to gain some semblance of control before speaking. It took a couple more kicks and a wicked smack from Sam's marble rolling pin, before Duncan finally settled down and apologized. The dwarven matriarch drug her snickering husband into the kitchen to prepare tea and cookies, giving Keiichi a moment to gather his thoughts. When the pair returned, Keiichi accepted his cup with a serene smile that dampened Duncan's mirth.

"I got an answer."

"And a bit more, from the looks of things." Duncan smirked, earning him a poke to the ribs from his wife. Keiichi nodded and held up the book.

"What's that?" Sam moved forward to get a better look at the tome.

"Ideas...theories…inspiration." Keiichi couldn't help but grin in anticipation. He held it out to Duncan. "Would you care for a look?"

The dwarf's mirth evaporated, immediately replaced by a stony frown.

"Don't tempt me, Lad. That's the answer to yer prayers, not mine. Gond will favor me with me own inspiration if I'm worthy of his blessing."

"I'm…I'm sorry Duncan. I didn't mean to offend…."

"No offense taken, Lad. But it's best that you remember this bit of advice: a gift from the gods is something sacred, an' more often than not something that sacred ain't meant ta be shared with every pair o' eyes that comes along." Duncan paused to knuckle his mustache. "No one, and I mean no one, will understand and appreciate the significance of the gift like you will – so don't cheapen the ore by givin' it ta the dog. Understand?"

Keiichi nodded thoughtfully.

"Now then." Duncan swallowed the rest of his tea and grabbed a handful of cookies. "You'd best be off ta the bath before Sam fixes lunch. We got ourselves a lot of work ta do, an' not a lot of time to waste. In the mean time, I'd best be communin' with me own god. I'll be waitin' for you in the shop, when yer ready."

Keiichi nodded and tucked Skuld's tome under his arm.

"Thanks for the tea and cookies, Sam. They were great."

Sam patted Keiichi's arm and shuffled him towards the stairs.

"Off to your room, Keiichi. I'll see to drawing your bath."

Rather than protest, Keiichi let himself be nudged up the staircase. Once safely tucked away in his room, he allowed himself to settle on the edge of the linen chest at the foot of his bed. Excitement his chest like a vice as he stared down at the book in his lap. He could feel the potential hidden in the pages waiting to be unleashed upon the world. It was little wonder that Skuld tended to be so hyper with her gadgets. He felt more than a little giddy himself at the thought of bringing a new concept into the world. Maybe he'd find something in here that would really change the way things worked! Without further hesitation he opened the book and began skimming through the entries.

Skuld's handwriting was what one would expect from a little girl – multicolored ink, neat, and very loopy. She even used little hearts for punctuation. The cuteness factor nearly overloaded his brain at first glance, but after a moment he was able to detach himself enough to move forward. With each new entry, Keiichi could only shake his head in wonder. Celestial Mathematics, Quantum Mechanics, Divine Citation and Grammar, Multi-planar Geography – for the first time Keiichi saw Skuld for the goddess she truly was, and by virtue of that realization he was able to see Belldandy in a whole new light as well. A sudden sense of inferiority overwhelmed him at the thought of the gap that existed between him and his goddesses. Skuld was no longer the sometimes-bratty little sister of his girlfriend; she was a sun to Keiichi's candle.

He had so far to go…but they thought he could make the journey. Even Skuld. He wasn't about to waste the faith that they placed in him.

It wasn't until he hit the entries for third grade that his mind almost shut down again. Ignoring the scattered comments about how handsome Apollo was, Keiichi quickly paged through the notes and schematics.

"You've got to be kidding me!" If it had been anyone but Skuld, Keiichi would have laughed out loud. "Lightsaber…Astromech…X-wing! No way…Deathstar? Geez, I'd always pegged her as a Mazinger or a Macross fan!"

Keiichi shook his head and continued reading, cataloguing the possibilities.

"Time Machine…too many headaches…Genetic Reconfibulator Mark VII…not in a million years! Knowing my luck, I'd end up as a chicken or something. Alternate Power Sources…sounds promising. Mr. Fusion? You've gotta be joking? Ooo…Plastics, Polymers, and Plexiglass the Medieval way."

The sound of Sam's knock startled him from his studies.

"Bath's ready for you, Keiichi."

"Thanks, Sam. I'll be right out." Tucking his finger in the book to mark his page, Keiichi quickly gathered his toiletries and a change of clothes.

"Lunch will be served in about an hour then. Mind that you don't fall asleep in the tub."

The young man grunted an affirmative as he juggled everything into a better position for easy reading. He sped through his bath, barely closing the book to clean himself. The only thing that kept him from reading in the bath, was the thought of what Skuld would do to him if the book got wet.

By the time he'd come across the fourth grade entries the book stopped being a book altogether. The rest of the pages seemed fused together into a solid form, becoming a high-powered data pad. Keiichi shook his head as he read the small sticky notes plastered around the fold out screen. Skuld was truly ahead of her time.

He touched the screen in the place Skuld's notes instructed and smiled as the device powered up. A stream of red light shot from the middle of the screen, pinpointing a spot on the middle of Keiichi's forehead. It was a bit of a surprise to hear the book speak to him in Belldandy's voice, but he wasn't going to complain about or mock Skuld's choice in narrators.

:_Aural Pattern recognized. Quantum Signature verified. Greetings Morisato Keiichi. Please state the nature of your need._:

"Uhm…can you give me a general guide of topics to choose from?"

:_Certainly_.:

The list was huge and moved at a pace that Keiichi could barely keep up with, but something jumped out at him from the scrolling text.

"Stop please!" The book complied, stopping on a list of entries on…of all things, ice cream. "Can you slow down a bit and back up to the section on 'Vehicles and Transportation'?" The text on the screen began scrolling back at a slower pace, and Keiichi's smile began to grow exponentially with each entry.

"Metamorphic Robotic Vehicles, Clockwork Transportation, and Interstellar Battlemechs for a new age…hmmm…."

Lunch was a quiet affair with only Keiichi and Sam sitting at the table. The young man ate his soup in silence, his nose still buried in Skuld's book. Rather than jump right into things, he thought it best to continue browsing in a linear fashion. It was always best to build off of the fundamentals, rather than start a project that was way over his head. The end of the fourth grade was where things seemed to get really interesting, introducing the young goddess to Causality Mechanics and an initiation into the Alpha and Omega programming language.

While he was certain that this universe operated on a completely different set of rules, according to Skuld's notes it didn't matter where you went in the multiverse – everything had the same basic materials. She called them "Intelligences" and gave a detailed brief on how these spiritual building blocks worked together to create…well…everything. There was a small set of side notes, complete with tiny thumbnails sketches, of something called a "Seraphic Engine" – whatever that was. Keiichi couldn't make heads or tails of the schematics, but he made a point to bookmark the pages for later study. That is, if he'd have time for later study.

There was no way in the world that he'd be able to get through the whole book before Skuld took it back in ten days time. He sighed and shifted the book to better catch the light, when something fell out of an earlier chapter.

"Eh? What's this?"

Keiichi picked up the well-worn, folded piece of brown parchment and carefully opened it. Rather than a single piece of parchment, the paper turned out to be a small booklet of plans, diagrams, and schematics detailing the creation of the portable data book. There was a book copier/note taker function that wasn't present in this copy though. The dedication on the inside cover made Keiichi shake his head.

"'To my favorite little Goddess of the Future. Athena swears by this little gizmo. Hope it helps in your Secondary Studies. Love, Big Heph.'"

Keiichi grinned and began pouring over the list of materials he'd need to create the gadget. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to come up with all of them naturally, but with Skuld's notes on elemental fabrication, Keiichi was certain he'd be able to build the little machine. It would eat up a few days of his time, but in the end it shaped up to be a solid trade off.

Without further ado, he slurped down his soup and gathered up his new study guide. Sam received a quick hug and a hearty "Thanks!" on the way out to the workshop. Duncan was right, there was no time to waste. He needed to get to work.

Keiichi opened the inset door and started to call out to Duncan, but stopped short at the sight of the dwarven Gondsman kneeling before his main anvil. It no longer resembled an anvil at all. It had been transformed into an altar. Mystic and holy runes adorned every possible surface of the makeshift dais and to Keiichi's surprise he could read them. Prayers to, and loving declarations of, Gond the Wonderbringer decorated the anvil – and to Keiichi's further admiration, Duncan was chiseling more into the iron as he murmured a prayer under his breath.

The light from one of the second story windows highlighted a number of small splotches and smears of red on the main hammer-plate. Keiichi could only stare, mesmerized, at the careful and deliberate manner in which Duncan worked. A sudden sense of uneasiness fell over him and he couldn't help but feel like an intruder on the intimate moment. He wasted no time in silently backing out of the workshop.

After a moment of serious thought, Keiichi came to a hard decision. Duncan was in this mess partially because of him. Therefore, in order for his friend to return to the good graces of his peers and his god, it stood to reason that Keiichi had to step out of the picture for a while. The question was, where to go? He didn't want to go back to the Temple of Oghma, and he couldn't think of anyone else that would give him the space he needed.

Gathering the notebook under his arm, Keiichi made his way back to the house to talk to Sam. At the very least, she might be able give him a push in the right direction. The clock was ticking after all.

* * *

Fendrellinor  
The Pools of Sorrow 

Elminster and Valor had cautiously entered what was left of the once, fabled Myth Drannor. They had been feeling the pull of Elminster's quest spell growing as they moved forward, but there had been something else tugging on the hem of their spirits as well. For the Old Mage, it was an annoying itch – much like a mosquito bite on the middle of one's back. For Valor though, the pull was almost undeniable. The only thing that had distracted her from the need to move forward was the amount of destruction that she and her patron were passing through.

Elminster, who had been present at the founding of the Mythal of this lost elven capital, was visibly shaken. He had, on too many occasions, ventured into the corrupted forests of this place that he had once called home. In comparing the demonic woods to this…devastation, El wasn't sure which was worse. Everything had been utterly destroyed. The outer ring of the destruction had been disconcerting, with trees and terrain uprooted and tossed about haphazardly. The closer to the center of the city they came though, the worse the scene had become. Trees and stone alike were powdered ash and, due to the rain, had become a fetid mud. It sapped the strength to remember the beauty that had existed here, only to see it replaced by…this.

The pair walked in silence for quite some time, leading their nervous horses carefully through all the debris, in reverence for what had been lost. The closer they drew to the heart of the destruction though, the edgier Elminster was feeling. There was a sense of…chaos in the air that the Magister had never felt before. It wasn't evil, nor was it good. It just…was.

It felt as if all of the possibilities in the universe had decided to congregate in one place. The sensation was enough to put El's sense of danger into overdrive. The itch he had been experiencing before became a buzzing that filled his body with a need to find the heart of this place. Valor seemed to feel it too, but no matter how hard he tried to prevent her from moving forward, she shook him off. Magic seemed to have a mind of its own here too. Elminster had attempted to restrain his scribe through magical means, and only succeeded in binding himself to her, thus allowing himself to be drug along behind her as she advanced.

Upon reaching the center of the ruined elven capital, Elminster's breath was taken away. A grove unlike anything that the mage had ever encountered before had sprouted and miraculously grown over a lush carpet of emerald grass. To his absolute astonishment, at the center of the grove, the largest and most majestic Shadowtop tree he had ever seen towered over the hundreds of small pools of water that dotted the landscape. It was easily three hundred to three hundred and fifty feet high, and it's branches spread out over the pools like a lady's parasol. A lone sapling stood out from the center of many pools, almost as though in memorial of something. Elminster had felt insecure in many locations during his travels, and although this wasn't Hell, this place gave him the willies something fierce. The horses were in wholehearted agreement with the mage, and made it quite clear that they preferred to be as far from this place as they could. It took sometime to calm them, but in that time Elminster got a very good look at some of the magics surrounding the area. He made a mental note to write his observations down at the first viable opportunity that presented itself.

Valor gasped, drawing her companion's attention, and pointed to the root of the gargantuan tree at the center of the pools. Elminster strained his eyes to make out the slender form of a drow male, sitting on a root and carving a long, crooked branch of wood. When he noticed their presence he lifted his hand and waved to the pair in a welcoming manner, beckoning them closer. Valor, unthinking or unable to resist the call, started walking forward. Her horse followed behind her and Elminster, still bound to the drow, could only follow her helplessly. They made it two-thirds of the way to the center of the grove, when Valor slipped on a pile of wet leaves and tumbled into a pool. Had Elminster not been behind the horse, or without his staff for that matter, he would have joined her.

And from the looks of things, that would have been a bad thing.

"Ah, Tressymdoehtele!"

Elminster looked up from the sputtering and hissing form of what had once been a shapely female drow, immediately on his guard. The drow seemed non-threatening and in fact, he was reaching his crooked pole into the water to aid in Valor's rescue.

"Spring of Drowned Tressym?" Elminster asked bewildered

His poor companion was no longer humanoid at all, having been changed into what resembled a wet housecat, if the cat in question had wings. At the very least, she was a creature that he was familiar with. The Tressym was a rare creature that he'd seen a number of his good-natured colleagues keep as familiars.

"Your companion has been surely blessed!"

Elminster was more than a bit anxious at the complacency of the drow, but his true anxiety was only heightened by his proximity to the other pools. Any mage worth his salt could see the way the Weave was being bent here, and from what he could tell no amount of magical protection was going to guard a person that from being changed if they fell into the waters. Under different circumstances, and perhaps with more time to prepare, Elminster might have been intrigued by the place. "Might" being the key word.

"Ye call this blessed?" He tried to keep the hysteria from his voice; and to his satisfaction, he was moderately successful.

"Certainly!" The drow deposited the wet ball of hissing fur and feathers at Elminster's feet, causing the Mage to jump, and began trawling for her clothes and belongings. "Glauenthiel could have easily cursed her to be a slug, or a chicken, or…" The drow shuddered. "…a pig."

Elminster shuddered too at the image of being stuck as a great fat pig, waiting for the butcher.

"I don't understand…" Elminster began.

"Of course you don't!" The drow scoffed. "Who could possibly understand the mind and will of the Weave Bender?"

"Weave Bender?" Elminster ventured. The drow nodded and produced a towel from seemingly nowhere, stuffing it into the mage's hands. El bent down and collected Valor into his arms, gently drying her fur and wings.

"Come and I will tell you of the greatness that is Glauenthiel." The drow reached out and took Elminster's hand and placed it on his shoulder, keeping it in place with his own hand. "Let me start by telling you about how I first came to know Glauenthiel. My story begins on a night not so long ago, when a flaming haired goddess fell from the moon."

Elminster listened intently as he looked out over the pools. Something about all of this seemed terribly familiar. Valor's horse neighed in panic, and there was a loud splash behind them. El and the drow looked over their shoulders in time to see a shapely naked woman with a bridle in her mouth and a saddle on her back, struggling to get out of the pool.

"Well, that was lucky." The drow paused in his tale and patted Elminster's hand. "Stay here a moment, will you?"

The mage watched as the good-natured dark elf help the long legged woman stumble from the pool. Where she was clumsy and wobbly, he seemed self-assured and confident in his balance. The poor woman seemed terribly confused, something that Elminster could readily identify with. After all, not a moment before she had been a majestic horse. Looking about the pools again, he felt their pull on him and desired nothing more than to teleport himself and his scribe as far from this hellish place as he could. It was during his daydream of escape that he remembered why everything seemed so familiar. He had read about it recently and had seen a similar magic in play on a very disturbing young man.

"…Ranma…."

"Ho! Ho! So you have heard of Glauenthiel after all!" The dark elf appeared at Elminster's side as if by magic, slapping the mage smartly on shoulder. Distracted as he was, El had little chance. Valor was tossed into the air and, thanks to her new wings, stayed there. The Magister however, succumbed to gravity's inevitable pull. On the other hand it might have been the pool doing the pulling, instead of gravity. Either way, Elminster's earlier prediction about magical safe guards and protections, was correct. The ring of levitation didn't do squat for him. In the end there was only one thing that he could do….

"DAMN YE, RANMA!"

_**SPLASH!**_

* * *

Hemmerling 

Rodbury Hearthman was a fallen man. He had waited in the cave while the gnoll and its band attacked the chit of a girl, and her scraggly mob of refugees. He had heard the echoes of battle from a far and exulted in them. He had given the gnoll explicit orders to bring him the "Silver Princess" alive and unspoiled. The rest were of little concern to Hearthman.

Once he had regained control of his holdings, he would of course be required to move against Thistlebuck and the rest of the mewling counsel; something he'd been looking forward to for a very long time. His patrons would need some serious placating, but he figured that if he could deliver the whole of Hemmerling to them…well, he just might be able to keep his head attached to his neck. On the upside, they just might reward his initiative and let him stay on as the Lord Mayor. Either way, he was intent on breaking that little white-haired slip before doing anything else.

A sound from the mouth of the cave near dawn caused him some concern. The bandits, had they been successful, would have been a bit more lively upon their return. So, rather than reveal himself to whoever or whatever was lurking out there, Hearthman slipped further into the cave and hid behind a rather large rock until he was certain it was safe.

The figure of Olin Breambur, holding a shining crystal shard high above his head for light, moved into Hearthman's line of sight. His right hand held a stout and extremely deadly looking short sword that caused Hearthman to shiver, especially when Breambur's eyes locked on Rodbury's position.

"Come out, Hearthman." The man's voice was as cold and hard as the rocks, brooking no disobedience. "We've much to discuss, you and I."

Rodbury held up his hands to show that he was unarmed, and began to stammer, his jowls flapping grotesquely. Breambur stuffed the crystal into a small alcove, freeing his hand.

"Olin, I…I…I can explain!"

"Save your excuses, Hearthman. Your stupidity has cost us a very lucrative operation here, and you know as well as I that the Black Network is not the most forgiving of benefactors."

Rodbury fell to his knees before Olin Breambur, clasping his hands to his chest.

"All is not lost! I can reclaim what Raelin took from me! By this time tomorrow all of Hemmerling will be yours! You'll see!"

Olin's fist smashed into Hearthman's temple, sending the man sprawling to the sandy floor of the cave.

"I'll see nothing fool! What do you think to do? Kill Thistlebuck? Murder the rest of the Council?" Rodbury's mouth was agape, looking for air to form some verbal defense. Olin reached down and hauled the fat man to his knees. "Stupid, short-sighted, heavy handed, IMBECILE! Ten years of careful planning and caution, all but undone in just one day because a fool could not keep his lusts in check."

Olin shoved the man back to the floor, and turned away from him to look out into the night.

"I will not allow the Network to lose Hemmerling. I will not let the last ten years be for naught. You got us into this mess, Hearthman, and I'll be damned if you're not going to get us out of it."

"Wha…What do you expect me to do?"

"Do Hearthman? I don't expect you to do anything but die."

Olin Breambur's short sword flashed out in the weak magical light of the crystal, cutting Rodbury Hearthman's head clean from his shoulders. The severed head bounced hollowly out of the cavern and came to a rest at the base of a large elm. It took Breambur little time to arrange the scene to his satisfaction. This, coupled with the clues left at Hearthman's estate, would lead Raelin and his investigators to believe that Rodbury had fallen afoul his Zhentarim employers; which was completely true. Creating a clever trail heading East would lead the rest of the council to believe that the murderers had left for greener pastures.

Olin would of course have to send a report to his own superior, explaining the situation. All in all it would most likely take another year or so, to rebuild what they had lost here – assuming that he could somehow convince the Tsukino woman to sell him Hearthman's shop. If he couldn't, then he would have to come up with another lucrative operation that would keep Hemmerling (and more importantly himself) safe from reprisal.

Had Olin been more observant, he would have noticed a silvery pelt, hidden among the foliage. Had he been more observant it would have spared his life when Raelin Thistlebuck confronted him at the edge of the tree line. Had he not been so tired and distracted, he might have been able to make good on his plan to restore Hemmerling into the hands of the Zhentarim.

Sadly, Olin was more than a bit distracted today. Unfortunately, he wasn't ready to meet up with Raelin Thistlebuck on the road back to town. With blood all over his tunic, and a great deal of sensitive items in his saddlebags, there was little to do but curse and run. He'd made it a quarter of a mile before a silver pelted creature pounced on him from the trees and drove him from the saddle, only to disappear into the underbrush without a trace. Raelin's horse arrived almost immediately, leaving Olin no choice but to fight for his life and freedom. Braembur had never known that Raelin had once been a highly trained Royal Guardsman of Cormyr.

It was a short confrontation, one that left the town of Hemmerling relatively free of the Zhentarim.

* * *

Highden 

With limited funds and a number of unwilling or unreasonable realtors, Keiichi had explored a large portion of the rocky beach as Sam had suggested. Unfortunately he hadn't found the cave she mentioned and had been forced to return to the house for further instructions. Ruthart and Sister Maerdith were there and, rather than waste more of Sam's valuable time, he asked them if they wouldn't mind showing him the way. Their reaction to his new skin color and lack of hair was much politer than Duncan's, but it did take sometime for the laughter and humorous comments to stop.

When Keiichi explained his quest again, Ruthart, having nothing better to do since Duncan had locked the workshop up tight, was more than glad to lend a hand. Sister Maerdith on the other hand was less enthused about the idea of Keiichi setting up shop in the seaside cavern, and she had felt the need to expound on all the reasons for finding a warmer, drier place to work.

Her discourse lasted throughout their trip to the market, through the selection of a pair of anvils, and well past the purchase of a sturdy handcart and a rather impressive set of clockmaker's tools. She was still clarifying the finer points of her arguments when Ruthart and Keiichi uncovered the mouth of the cave beneath some serious shrub growth and debris. They went to work immediately, piling the dried brush and seaweed into a heap on the sand and stone while the Ohgmite priestess continued her rather exhaustive discourse.

"…and you honestly cannot know what has decided to take up residence in the place. All manner of beasts best left alone could have claimed this place for their home."

Keiichi nodded and shifted his backpack and tool belt to sit better before turning to Ruthart.

"What do you think, Ruthart?" The young gnome shrugged his shoulders and pulled one of the two handcarts closer to the mouth of the cave.

"For whatever the reason, no one in town's ever claimed the cavern for themselves, but Sister Maerdith has a point about creatures and whatnot making a home of it." He shrugged again and looked into the mouth of the cave without further comment.

"Well, there's no harm in taking a peek. If someone or something has decided to make this their home, I'll look for somewhere else to work."

"But it's late afternoon!" Maerdith protested. "It will be dark and cold soon!"

"You don't have to come with us Sister Maerdith. Ruthart and I can manage." Keiichi smiled at the young gnome and winked.

"Nonsense! Of course I have to come!" The priestess folded her arms and looked into the cave nervously. "There's no telling what trouble you'll get into without me. Besides, you've yet to tell me how you came by your new blueberry coloring."

Keiichi grimaced and shared a look with Ruthart. Both shook their heads. The group wasted no time in pushing the handcarts into the mouth of the cave and pulling out their hooded lanterns. Keiichi heeded Urd's warning about open flames and allowed Ruthart to light them for the group. The cave entrance was rather narrow and turned after about ten feet; beyond that neither Keiichi or Maerdith could see. The priestess gripped the handle of her mace nervously and looked back to the mouth of the cavern.

"There's a large sized chamber at the end of the tunnel," Ruthart pointed out. "…and beyond that are a few other rooms of varying sizes. One of the moderate sized ones has a natural chimney. One of my friends, Dickey Dunweather got stuck in it as a kid on a dare from Ferin Gullywarden. It took almost fifteen hours and a boatload of axle grease to unstuck him."

"It sounds perfect for my needs." Keiichi grinned.

"Before Highden was founded, a bunch of pirates and smugglers thought so too." Maerdith groused. Keiichi and Ruthart glanced around the sandy floor nervously for signs of recent use, but found nothing out of the ordinary.

"Well let's just hope for the best, and pray that they've moved on to bigger and better caves, shall we?"

Keiichi and Ruthart secured the handcarts, draping the seaweed and tangles that had covered the cave's entrance over their belongings, while Maerdith swept up the cart's tracks in order to hide their progress from any unfriendly eyes. The young gnome lit a lantern and after handing it to Keiichi, followed the blue-skinned man's lead. Sister Maerdith tossed her hair with a snort and stomped into the cavern behind the two.

* * *

It is said of the ambitious, those fools who would be gods, they learn a valuable lesson when confronted with true Divinity. One might achieve a god-like outlook through the acquisition of power and influence, but that doesn't necessarily make them gods. True Godhood cannot be obtained easily or quickly, for such paths lead to madness and self-destruction. Gods grow in power and understanding, line upon line and precept upon precept – a growth that takes thousands of lifetimes to fully mature. Gods exist on many levels and their magnificence is spread over many planes. They are so far beyond the ken of mortal man, and their complexity makes mortal-kind seem like single celled organisms by comparison. There are, of course, exceptions to every rule and loopholes that are exploited. Mystra in all of her incarnations has always been one such exception. 

When Midnight was chosen as Mystra's heir and successor, she was quickened in an instant. The Weave became her memory and Toril itself an extension of her body. The Chosen harbored her humanity and her conscience, and thus she _Became _the goddess of magic. Cyric and Kelemvor both had aids and mentors to guide them into their roles as well, as their awareness was tied to the worshipers that lauded their names and venerated their chosen tenets. That is not to say that the transition was an easy one. None could truly say whether Cyric had ever been wholly sane to begin with, and in light of recent ambitions that sanity was truly in question.

The true point, when all was said and done, is that being a god is hard. Really, really hard. Ascending requires a certain preparation, and those not prepared for it usually don't survive the process without aid.

Sadly, Ranma had no such buffer at the moment and his mind and spirit drifted along the Weaves of Toril's magic like a piece of drift wood in the tide; lost in the dreams and yearnings of those who were a part of or could tap the essence of magic. He touched the minds of millions of life forms simultaneously, yet had no way of conceptualizing the experience. Some were benevolent and beautiful, while others were demonic and profane. The former he smiled upon and encouraged as best he could, while the later he turned away from in complete disgust taking his gifts with him as he went.

He became a part of those races that were magic: dragons, and elves, and Fae creatures like unicorns and dryads. He knew them and lost himself in their existences for a time. Each time he saw and felt something new, a familiar war was waged to hold on to what he had been. It was worse than before…much worse, for there was nothing to ground him. His body had been consumed at the Pool of Radiance and his spirit was freed. There was no safe harbor to hold him and no hand to guide him to security.

He fought on though, looking for a way to overcome, just as he always did. Eventually, he found what could be considered a door deep within him and, with all the strength left, pulled himself back to the fortress in his soul. Broken and tattered his spirit crawled into the edifice and sequestered himself there – guarding against further loss of self and slowly began rebuilding who he had been.

It was in this time of sanctuary, that the gods came knocking at the gate of his Indigo Palace. They knocked and knocked, but he refused to answer. One by one they left until only a single being remained.

She was dressed in stars and her hair was as black as the vault of night. Her dark beauty was veiled in mystery and secrets, but the look in her eyes was filled with love and understanding. She waited patiently through the boredom and silence, and braved the furious storms he sent to drive her away. She refused to be moved by his booming voice or his caustic rage. She weathered it all until at last the gates of the Indigo Palace could no longer keep her out. She gently pushed through the portal and entered the sanctuary with great care and reverence.

Broken and worn down, the edifice reflected the state of his soul. The stones were aged and tumbling, the polished wood had lost its luster, and the building itself was a grotesque amalgamation of a thousand different styles. The chaos it represented hurt the senses and shifted constantly. Yet, the goddess walked on, unmoved by her environment.

He allowed her to wander through his halls; he could not stop her even had he wanted to. He let her face the demons of his madness one after another, unable to warn her or aid her in the battles. She fought them all, winning past each and every one of them. She healed the wounds they inflicted on him with her blood and allowed her once perfect body to be bruised for his sake. She moved on and on until, at long last, she arrived at his throne room. He wondered at the loving smile on her broken and bloody face as she stood before him, and shook his head.

* * *

Hemmerling 

Nine days passed in relative chaos for the citizens of Hemmerling. The owner of the general store had been stripped of his property and subsequently found murdered. The murderer turned out to be a highly respected member of the community, who had ties to the greatest criminal cabal in Faerun. And all of this came to light due to a beautiful and enigmatic young woman called Usagi Tsukino – a woman that the residents of Hemmerling had taken to calling the "Silver Princess," along with the rest of the countryside.

Usagi, for her part had wanted nothing to do with the name or the people associated with it. Unfortunately, the residents of Hemmerling were hard to ignore. They brought her pies and cakes, chickens and goats, hand made clothing and the occasional set of precious jewelry…all in thanks for her heroic defense of their town. Her confrontation with Lord Kelemvor had been blown completely out of proportion, making her out to be some sort of one-woman army that had stood against an innumerable horde of undead that had come to claim Hemmerling's sons and daughters. Some people had taken to all but worshiping her when she passed by; something that she put an immediate stop to when she encountered it.

Raelin made the transfer of the estate legal when, upon hearing about his injuries, Usagi made a special trip to town. She healed his grave wounds, much to the amazement of the populace, earning herself even more notoriety among the locals. She fled the Council Hall with all due haste, the moment that Raelin had offered to step down as mayor. When one of the Council members insisted she forego the office of Mayor completely, in favor of stepping into the role of the Lady of Hemmerling, Usagi wanted to scream. She didn't understand these people or their sudden affection for her. In fact, if she didn't know better, she would have said that they were all quite insane.

Ulin decided to step in at this point; making it clear that Usagi was planning on spending the winter in Silverymoon. To Usagi's dismay and anger, she didn't decline the offer outright though. When the displaced Moon Princess made her displeasure known, the earth Genasi chuckled and told Usagi to always keep her options open. In turn, the "Silver Princess" told Ulin where she could shove her "options" as she stormed back to the estate.

This all came to pass within the first five days after the confrontation with Kelemvor. On the sixth day, one of the maids tried to assassinate Usagi as she was going to dinner. Shandri Dunhill who, through her selfless sacrifice was wounded in the process, foiled the attempt and inadvertently triggered the power of the Guinzuisho. Thus Usagi was blessed to receive her second Senshi, and another slew of headaches. The seventh and eighth days were spent searching the estate from top to bottom for spies, assassins, and death traps left in Ronald Hearthman's wake.

Thanks to the help of Grrlixi and the Loras, three men and one woman were found hidden away in a secret basement along with a number of ledgers and a journal of contacts from Hearthman's shady business practices. Usagi was uncertain what to think of the beautiful, silver furred creatures. They still resembled large humanoid hyenas to Usagi, but their temperament seemed a lot less aggressive. If anything, Usagi would say that the group seemed more like a pack of puppies: loyal, playful, and obedient (to the point of excess); and they had elected her to be their owner. Grrlixi, being the most intelligent (relatively speaking of course), had taken to literally worshipping the ground that Usagi walked on – and no matter what she did to disabuse him of the practice, the pack leader wouldn't stop. He had become so fervent in his adoration that it was starting to spill over to the other Loras, who seemed to hang on her every word and looked to fulfill her every wish. Usagi made certain to do everything in her power to avoid the creatures as best she could, but when confrontation was inevitable the "Silver Princess" made certain that her mouth was firmly shut.

Other events happened that, if possible, only complicated Usagi's life more. Garl Blackhammer had set out to delve the abandoned mine on the third day, along with a handful of volunteers from the body of the refugees and townsfolk. The hunt for stragglers had been fruitless, but a number of crates of stolen goods and contraband had been uncovered on the first day of exploration. This large stash was given to the townsfolk of Hemmerling to sort through and return where possible. Raelin and the Council, on Usagi's suggestion, took the rest and distributed it among the less fortunate families.

Garl was unsatisfied with the first day's discoveries, and decided to delve further into the mine. His original team accompanied him, prepared for a week's worth of exploration. They returned in the early morning hours of the eighth day, bearing surprising news. The silver mine had once been very active, and had been the reason for Hemmerling sprouting up where it had. But due to a number of unusual deaths, the mine had closed and been dubbed "haunted" by the local populace.

Master Blackhammer was a veteran miner, and immediately picked up on the truth of the haunting. The inexperienced miners had hit a vent of bad air, and without a solid ventilation system in place had basically poisoned themselves. Garl had gone deep into the mine and returned with a number of ore samples that made the town hoop and holler. The mine had gone from being a simple silver dig, to being an excavation of silver, iron, and platinum. The veins themselves were small, but moderately numerous, although the later only had one or two veins at first glance. Still, Garl was hopeful that where there was a little ore, more was sure to follow.

This auspicious news had set the town on its ear, and again Usagi was given the accolades – much to her disgust. Ulin met with Garl and the Hemmerling Council, on Usagi's behalf and arranged for the mine to re-open. The dwarf seemed happy to be in his element again, and was assigned to be the foreman of the mine. True to his nature Garl wasted no time in beginning the renovation of the mine, bringing it up to dwarf standards. With the pace he was setting, Usagi had little doubt that the mine would be up and running within two months time.

Usagi, for her part, was still reeling from everything that had happened. She had gone from destitute, to suddenly having more wealth than she had ever had in her life. This overnight success left a sour taste in her mouth, so she set about spreading the joy around as much as possible. Most of Rodbury Hearthman's opulent excess was packed on trade carts and prepared for the markets of Everlund and Yartar. The majority of the proceeds from these sales were slated to build and furnish homes for the refugees on the estate, as well as supply the mine with much needed equipment.

Ulin, against Usagi's wishes, hired a trustworthy house staff to replace Hearthman's – most of whom left after hearing of their Master's murder, afraid that they might be next. Those few servants that had stayed on were magically screened by Ulin to ensure that their intentions were above board. The only one not to make the cut was Hearthman's doorman, who had a larcenous heart and had been caught pocketing a number of Usagi's new jewelry. Raelin had come to personally escort the thief to the town jail where he presently sat awaiting trial.

Usagi had spoken up for the man, asking clemency of the Council. But as they had sent to Tradesburrow for an impartial magistrate, the matter was out of their hands. They told her that the request would be noted on the record for the visiting dignitary to review, but they made no promises.

To say that Usagi hated the way that her life was unfolding was an understatement. Today was the morning of the tenth day, and while she enjoyed breakfast in bed a great deal, and help dressing was always welcome, the constant pampering was starting to wear thin. Every time someone called her "Milady" or "Your Highness," Usagi growled audibly…and not in a nice way either. She had politely told off more than a dozen servants when they came to do something for her. And rather than acknowledging her wishes and desires to be left to her own devices, the people simply smiled and ignored her! It was enough to make her scream.

And in fact, she had. Loudly. So loudly in fact, that both Ulin and Shandri had descended on the scene with magic flaring. For Ulin this was nothing too surprising. But poor Shandri nearly fainted when she learned that she was, now and forever, an honest to goodness magical girl. Ulin had called her a sorceress, but Usagi still felt that this was breaking with tradition. She kept her mouth shut though, for Shandri's sake, seeing as how the girl had gained a whole new level of confidence and all. Case in point, some of the staff had been overheard whispering about Shandri's bold cornering of that handsome Viet Lackman in the broom cupboard on the third floor. There was no way that Usagi was going to step in the way of love by correcting Ulin's choice of titles. At the very least someone in this godforsaken nightmare should be happy, and Usagi couldn't think of a better person for it to happen to.

It sure as heck wasn't going to happen to her anytime soon; that was for darn certain!

The displaced Moon Princess sighed as she descended the main stairwell on her way to the sitting room. She had seen something resembling a piano there, and was intent on sequestering herself in the room and proving her old piano teacher wrong. Tone deaf or not, Usagi was going to play the stupid thing until she got good. And if she were truly bad enough, maybe the stupid house staff would run away and leave her the heck alone!

As she rounded the long curve of the staircase she came into full view of the entryway, and saw that it was packed with three large stacks of luggage. Ulin was speaking with Faim and Marcus, handing them a sheaf of parchments and a small lacquered, cherry wood box. Shandri and Viet were standing behind the jade-skinned woman, holding hands and looking positively adorable, while Heb stood on Ulin's far side.

Of everyone, Heb had changed the most since the night on the road. The man had lost his edginess and a palpable aura of peace surrounded him now. He still couldn't speak directly to Usagi, but the fear was decidedly different now. He still stammered a lot, but a cute little blush would spread across his cheeks whenever she made eye contact with him.

Everyone looked up as she made her way down the final third of the staircase, and Usagi watched as a number of men entered the front door and started to pick up the luggage, until they noticed her presence. Upon seeing her, the men snapped to attention and bowed deeply to her (much to her annoyance) and only continued with their work after she nodded to them. Ulin shooed everyone else away to their appointed tasks, and then made her way to Usagi's side.

"Are you leaving me here to my doom?" Usagi asked.

Ulin snorted and shook her head.

"On the contrary, I'm rescuing you from your lonely tower, Little Princess."

Usagi chuckled and watched the men lift another trunk.

"That's a new one. The dragon, rescuing the princess."

Ulin bowed deeply.

"We aim to please, Milady."

Usagi growled and cuffed Ulin on the shoulder.

"You were warned not to use that horrible word with me. Now you're going to have to suffer the consequences." Usagi started walking towards the main door; intent on seeing what was going on outside, but Ulin looped her arm in the young woman's and redirected her towards the Drawing Room.

"Your vengeance terrifies me, Highness." The Genasi's smirk was filled to the brim with cheek.

"You are really asking for it today aren't you?" Usagi's eyes narrowed sternly, making her look more "cute" than intimidating.

"I ask for it everyday, in some form or fashion, but you've yet to deliver." The sorceress slid the Drawing Room doors open, revealing a well-adorned study with tall, floor to ceiling windows.

"I'm just trying to think up the appropriate punishment is all. If you'd just let me catch my breath, I would give you what you so richly deserve."

"Promises. Promises." Ulin gently pushed Usagi into a plush leather chair behind a large oak desk and handed her a quill.

"Thank you." Usagi grinned. "Now tell me why I'm sitting here so that I can add it to the growing list of your crimes."

Ulin smiled back and produced a small stack of papers.

"These are the contracts that you requested drawn up between the town and the estate." She shifted the top papers to the bottom of the stack. "This grants Faim and Marcus the power to act in your name while you are away. And lastly, this is a letter to Her Majesty, Alustriel, Queen of the Silver Marches, stating that you will be visiting the city."

"Is that really necessary?" Usagi whined. She read over the letter, grimacing at the flowery language and the cursory titles at the bottom. "And since when am I the Lady of Hemmerling?"

"Since the Council convened last night and unanimously voted to name you such." Ulin smiled benignly and motioned for Usagi to start signing.

"Why don't I get a say in this?"

"Because you are now nobility, Dear Heart. You are expected to grin and bear the expectations of the commoners you rule."

"This sucks." Usagi pouted.

"Invariably. But there is little to do about it if you intend to retain the property."

"You said that I had to keep the property for the benefit of the refugees!" Usagi protested.

"No. I merely stated that until things settled it would be a good idea to leave things as they were. Once the people of Hemmerling got used to the idea of the refugees living near them, you could then sell the lands to the people and be done with the whole affair."

"But…but this isn't right! No one asked me if I wanted to be the stupid Lady of Hemmerling! Isn't there a law against this or something? I mean there wasn't even a vote or anything!"

"Sadly, there is no law against embracing a new leader over a community. There was, as I said earlier, a vote last night. And I should mention here that it was unanimous in your favor. Raelin seemed quite happy to step down, too."

"You mean to tell me that you were there?" Usagi screamed.

"Of course I was there." Ulin crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "I might have arrived too late to stop the vote, but I made sure that the Council understood your intentions to return home."

When Ulin didn't continue, Usagi's foot began tapping with a soft thud on the thick carpet beneath the desk.

"And?"

"And what? Do you honestly think, for one minute, if they choose to ignore your protests, that I would stand a better chance of getting through to them?"

Usagi screamed in frustration and leapt to her feet. She paced back and forth in front of the empty fireplace, clenching and unclenching her fists. Ulin settled herself on the edge of the desk and waited until Usagi gained some semblance of control before saying anything else.

"I don't think you should worry so much."

"Not worry? These people want me to be some sort of ruler to them when all I want to do is go home! They've made me responsible for them for crying out loud!"

"I already told you, Dear Heart, that you are your own woman. No one can dictate to you what you will or will not do."

"But they are shifting their responsibilities onto me!"

"So? Shift them back. Make Raelin your Regent, until you come back. Put in provisions to name a new Regent in the event of Raelin's death and your immediate absence. Lay out a document of intent for your current property in the event that you are able to return home." Ulin rested her hand on Usagi's shoulder. "You are only a victim if you allow yourself to be, Usagi."

The young woman sighed and nodded.

"Now then, our coach will be ready to leave in the morning. What do you say to working out all these details before dinner, and then we'll turn in for the night, eh?"

Usagi nodded her head and began reading over the paperwork. There were no immediate changes and she signed everything without hesitation, the only exception was the letter to Alustriel. That, she fought tooth and nail to bypass without signing. Impolite or not, the last thing Usagi wanted was to be seen and acknowledged as the Lady of Hemmerling. Sadly, Ulin was a stickler for propriety – especially where Alustriel was concerned, and Usagi was forced to sign and magically send the letter herself.

The rest of the day and part of the night was spent discussing how best to shove all the responsibility of running Hemmerling, back onto the shoulders of the Council and its elected mayor, Raelin. Ulin had enough political savvy backing her, to write an ironclad Declaration of Intent. She sent the document to the Council, with Viet and Shandri acting as couriers. That would get the lovebirds out of her hair and make her intentions known to the people who had dumped their problems in her lap. By the time they were finished, Usagi was pretty much completely free of all day-to-day concerns. She continued to receive the occasional report or missive, but by and large, the invisible weight had been returned to where she felt it belonged. When dinner rolled around, the affairs concerning the estate had been drafted and Ulin promised to have it complete before they reached Tradesburrow, so that it could be filed with the Magistrate's Office and made official.

In spite of starting off her day in the middle of a nightmare, Usagi went to bed happy and content. And as she slept the sleep of the moderately innocent, she dreamed. Surprisingly clear and memorable dreams, filled to overflowing with images of a pig-tailed boy, dancing among the stars. It was the same yummy dream she'd had every other night for the last ten days.

When she woke the next morning to breakfast in bed, it was with a guilty smile on her face. A smile that was only partly inspired by the fact that she was escaping this outlandish experience. After all, being enveloped by the strong arms of a stormy-eyed boy would leave a smile on just about any girl's face…right?

Had she taken the time to think about it, she would have been concerned that it had been a very long time since she had thought of Mamoru Chiba.

A very long time indeed.

* * *

Highden 

Keiichi's cavern turned out to be quite deserted, with the exception of a crab and a bat or two. They didn't seem to mind sharing, and so Keiichi claimed the place as his own. By the time they had fully explored the small cavern night had fallen and, rather than chance a trip back to town, the trio decided to spend the night in the cave.

Ruthart and Maerdith set about collecting driftwood and the remnants of broken smuggler's crates for a fire in the chamber with the chimney, while Keiichi began unloading and arranging supplies. Dinner was a quiet affair, with Keiichi telling an abbreviated version of his visit with Belldandy and her sisters. Ruthart was enthralled by the tale and Maerdith was conspicuously silent as she scribbled notes in a small diary that

Keiichi had taken to calling "The Book."

After dinner, Keiichi and Ruthart went back to unpacking and arranging supplies, while Maerdith made up for her earlier silence by blitzing the blue-skinned man with all manner of questions about the event. By the time everything was unpacked and in place, Ruthart and Maerdith were droopy-eyed and sagging. Keiichi however, felt fresh and wide-awake…a bit sore in places perhaps, but nowhere near as tired as he should have been. He wasn't certain whether he should thank Belldandy or blame Urd for this boon, but regardless of its origins Keiichi meant to capitalize on his good fortune.

By the time morning came, the young man was well into making his own data book using the plans Hephaestus had given Skuld and the Norn's own notes on Alchemical processes. He did not pause to eat or sleep until Maerdith forced a bowl of stew under his nose at dusk. The look of open concern in her eyes and the expression of awe on Ruthart's cherubic face made Keiichi feel very uncomfortable, and when he made note of his progress he understood why.

One part of the room had become a foundry, complete with molds and metal working tools neatly arranged near a well-crafted fire pit beneath the room's chimney. The only thing that the forge lacked was a method for venting the smoke and heat into the chimney better. He vaguely remembered stacking the stones around the forge and the anvils had been difficult to move on his own. But, when had he had time to blow the glass beakers and set up the chemistry set?

Keiichi looked about the rest of the room, both dreading what he saw and amazed at what he had accomplished. The set up was nothing short of incredible, and the sheer volume of work…miraculous. He numbly sat on an overturned bucket and tried to take it all in. The data journal he'd been making wasn't anywhere near done, but he had over a third of the pieces manufactured.

It was all so…impossible!

He stared blankly at the bowl of Maerdith 's stew for a time, uncertain and scared of the way his life was spiraling out of control. One would think that he'd become used to it by now, yet even after all that he'd seen, done, and experienced nothing like this had ever happened before. This was something positive…something that, if he were honest with himself, excited him.

His mind was racing with all the possibilities that were unfolding before him, and without realizing it, he felt himself getting up and returning to his tasks. The bowl of stew was emptied within three steps, cleaned in one and delivered back into Maerdith 's hands before he'd taken his fifth.

Had he been able to see through Maerdith 's eyes, the fear he'd felt a moment before would have become terror. The Morisato Keiichi he had known all his life was rapidly being replaced by a blue-skinned blur, whose every step was certain and full of confidence. Truly a far cry from the bumbling young man he had been not too long ago.

Maerdith and Ruthart refused to leave Keiichi's side; something that Keiichi would have appreciated more had he been cognizant of anything beyond the projects he was working on. Maerdith catalogued the changes in Keiichi's demeanor as well as some of the more revolutionary ideas he was implementing…well, the ones that she could readily understand at least. Ruthart made himself useful by attending to the needs of Sister Maerdith, where he could, and organizing the other rooms based on his earlier conversations with Keiichi when he had free time.

The data journal was completed in five days time, at which point Keiichi paused long enough to eat a rushed breakfast before moving on to test his new creation. Skuld's book was scanned and downloaded within an hour, leaving Keiichi smiling triumphantly at his friends. Five minutes later he collapsed into a heap, knocking poor Sister Maerdith to the floor when he fell on top of her. He woke a day and a half later, ravenous with hunger, but elated that he had accomplished what he'd set out to achieve. It was a hopeful sign of things to come.

His celebration was short lived though, as he had to endure a seven-hour lecture on pacing himself from the Ohgmite priestess. Ruthart, it was later noted, demonstrated his intelligence by leaving the cave in order to replenish their supplies before the priestess had built up any significant steam.

All in all, Keiichi was anxious and pleased with the way things were progressing. Sure the cave could use a bit more work, his skin was still a bright purplish-blue, and he intermittently belched out bright, randomly colored clouds of smoke that smelled like blueberries from time to time, but for the first time since arriving in this strange and fantastic place he felt hopeful that things were going to turn out okay. Now all he had to do was find a way to help Duncan, find the other two people from Earth, and somehow become a god so that he could go home to Belldandy.

Piece of cake.

* * *

Mystra's path through Ranma's soul was much harsher than it had been when she and Shar had entered it the last time. There were no locks and chains to bind his pride and insecurities. There was nothing to hold back his fears or the wounds inflicted upon him by the carelessness of his family and acquaintances. Every emotion was raw and every experience fresh. Couple with that the ties he'd made to Toril, and Mystra had a great deal of obstacles to over come in getting to Ranma's core. The path was long and arduous, and her battle with his Ego had been a close thing. But she had won through and rather than heal the wounds she'd taken, she left their mark upon her so that he could see her dedication to him first hand. 

When she passed through the final portal and came to the center of his Palace, she was surprised at what she found. For there, sitting on a throne of ivory and jade, sat a child of no more than four or five summers, whose body was a bruised and broken as her own. He was but a babe before her womanhood, and yet she felt her love for him grow all the same. Age had no bearing in this meeting of souls. She knelt and opened her arms to him and, to her wonder and relief, Ranma ran into her comforting embrace. She asked nothing from him, choosing instead to give. Rather than inflicting wounds for his theft from her, she kissed his bruises and healed the lesions in his soul.

When his spirit body was healed, she reached into her breast and pulled forth the memories and shards of his soul that had been left to her. She gathered the scattered remains his consciousness, piece by piece, and returned them to him. There was nothing she could do about the experiences he'd gathered, but hopefully the memories of his past would anchor him enough to adjust.

With each small gem of memory and crystal of personality that she returned to him, the child's body grew – reclaiming the appearance of the young man that "Ranma Saotome" had been.

He asked her why she had done this thing, but she did not answer. Instead, she kissed him as one lover would another, and smiled an enigmatic smile that quickened the heart. She made love to him, allowing the silver fire of her essence heal the few scratches and cuts that remained on him, while healing her own wounds. Their bliss was mutual and a sense of wholeness overcame them both with their joining. The Weave surged in places all throughout Toril at their climax and new wonders came into being at their moment of joy. The majesty of the event left Mystra feeling strangely complete for the first time since her conception.

Time, such as it was, passed all too quickly for them both.

Then, taking him by the hand, she walked with him through his Palace showing him the width and breadth of Creation in each room that they passed through. Some doors were barred and locked as they passed into the next; others were simply closed against the day they needed to be opened, while still others remained open and accessible to him. By the time they returned to the throne room, Ranma had found a measure of peace again. Voices still whispered in the night, but he no longer feared them. It was amidst these whispers and pleadings that she turned to him, with concern in her eyes and worry in her spirit.

"What is it?" He asked.

"You are being summoned." She held out her hand to him and motioned to a new door that appeared opposite the throne. He started towards the door, but Mystra pulled up short. "You must make this journey without me."

He nodded and squeezed her hand before starting towards the door alone. She watched as he opened it, revealing an expanse of blackness so complete that it seemed to absorb the light from the room they were in. With one last cocky smile tossed in her direction he stepped into the darkness and disappeared.

* * *

The Everlund Road 

Tradesburrow came and went. Their business with the Magistrate was short and sweet, and Usagi found that she rather liked the grizzled old ranger, Hap Roue. He was a stern faced, round bellied, no nonsense man, who had treated her just like everyone else. She could have kissed him for his kindness, but refrained…well mostly. Kissing his cheek for endorsing the estate papers didn't seem like such a breach of etiquette. They left the Magistrate's office amidst a storm of good-natured blustering and grumpy blushing, and were on the road soon afterwards. She had even gotten her own neat little seal! How cool was that?

Feldrin Avenry, a bright eyed and exuberant red head of obvious half-elven descent, joined the small company of travelers for the trek north. She reminded Usagi of a mix between Minako and Haruka – giddy and mischievous, with a healthy competitive streak. She wasn't shy and, having been raised by and around the Rangers of Tradesburrow, had very little in the way of feminine modesty or restraint.

Of the half elf, there wasn't much to know. With her it was easily: "What you see is what you get." and she explained her reasons for joining Usagi's caravan without shame or tears. Feldrin's father had been a burly, bear of a man, who had fallen in love with a moon elf woman. She had lived long enough to have Feldrin, but the rigors of childbirth shattered her health. Feldrin's father cared for her until the day she died and then, leaving his new daughter in the care of neighbors, took his wife's body back to the Moonwood and never returned. Some thought he'd died of grief along the journey. Others thought he fell to giants in the Everlund Pass. Feldrin admitted she had no clue either way, but she was intent to find out. Usagi loved her, if for no other reason than she rattled Ulin's cage so very easily.

The company was fairly small, at Usagi's insistence. Viet and Shandri became her footman and handmaiden. Shandri's mother and sister begged to join the trip, the later for the excitement and the former to keep a sharp eye on her daughter's budding romance. Heb had quietly shadowed Usagi's company for a day, until Usagi caught sight of him and had Viet collect him. He joined Stedd Greycastle and Taeghen Amalith in guard duty and driving the coach. Ulin was present of course, grilling Usagi on magic as they had for the first half of their journey, but added to her studies was a healthy dose of reading, politics, and Statecraft.

And keeping well out of sight of everyone in the township of Tradesburrow, were the Loras. She had only seen a few glimpses of the silver furred creatures, but she felt their protective presence hovering near, just out of sight. In an effort to avoid any misunderstandings, Usagi made certain to mention the odd creatures to Hap Roue, in order to ensure that no one started hunting the Loras. The last thing she wanted was a conflict between the good people of Tradesburrow and a group she felt responsible for. Roue sent out runners along their path to warn the homesteaders and woodsmen of Usagi's unusual friends, giving word that they were to be given free passage through the territory. And with that, the company was on its way to Everlund and from there, on to Silverymoon itself.

Three days out from Tradesburrow, the coach was forced to stop because one of the horses tossed a shoe. They'd already eaten lunch and if Stedd was good to his word, they would make Everlund by nightfall. That left Usagi with nothing to do for the moment; she was more than willing to pause in her studies and take a stretch, but the road was already getting long and monotonous.

"What I wouldn't give for the Shinkansen." She grumbled.

She looked around the milling group of people and tried not to yawn. When she saw Ulin coming out from behind the coach, she immediately recognized the intense look on the Genasi's face. That look always meant trouble, inspired by Feldrin no doubt. Usagi tried to pretend to ignore her mentor, without much success.

"My Lady."

Oh, dear sweet Heaven! If Ulin was using that tone of voice, this was likely to be an uncomfortable encounter.

"Yes, Ulin?" Be sweet. If she thought happy things and maybe this wouldn't turn out to be so bad.

"Master Greycastle found a split in one of the coach's wheels. It seems that we will be spending the night here."

Crud.

"Since we have more time on our hands, we should make the most of it and move onto our Practical sessions."

Double Crud.

"With that in mind, I consulted with Miss Shandri and she suggested that we familiarize ourselves with our new magic."

Sure she did. Usagi inwardly groaned. You're just wanting to blow off some steam. Showing off a little for Feldrin doesn't hurt either.

Usagi fixed a strained smile on her face and nodded.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea."

"I have found a suitable place near by where we will be able to practice without damaging the area."

Usagi nodded with a sigh and followed the woman away from where everyone was setting up camp. Shandri must have been desperate to escape from her mother's watchful eye, to willingly endure the grueling reality of Ulin's lessons. Usagi felt like a woman going to prison and had there been an acceptable alternative, she would have taken it.

"Where you off to, Lady Serenity?"

Usagi grinned at Ulin's noticeable cringe.

"Magic practice." An evil thought occurred to her then. "You want to come watch?"

If she had to suffer, then why not spread the love? After all Ulin needed some payback for all the crap she was putting Usagi through. The sorceress looked down at her pupil with an expression of intense distaste. Feldrin yawned and shrugged, obviously feigning boredom in order to hide her interest.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do right now."

"My Lady." Ulin growled. "I don't think that this is such a good idea."

"Oh, don't be silly! I'm sure that Feldrin will stay out of the way, won't you Feldrin?"

The ranger waved and nodded inattentively.

"Sure. Sure. I won't be a nuisance."

Usagi heard Ulin mumble something incoherent under her breath before turning back to the small game trail that lead into the wood. Usagi winked at Feldrin mischievously, soliciting a quiet giggle from Shandri. The ranger grinned and wrapped her arm around Usagi's shoulder.

"You're my kind of girl, Lady Serenity." She returned Usagi's wink and poked Shandri in the ribs with a finger. The girl giggled again.

"Please, call me Usagi-chan. Both of you."

"But that wouldn't be proper!" Shandri gasped. "You're a Lady!"

Usagi gritted her teeth and shook her head.

"I didn't ask to be a Lady. And if I could get out of being a Lady I would, in a heartbeat." Usagi wrinkled her nose in distaste earning a belly laugh from Feldrin. "Now please, call me Usagi-chan, all my friends do."

Shandri looked aghast at the very idea, but Feldrin wrapped her arm around the young girl's shoulders and pulled her close.

"She shouldn't have to be a Lady all the time, should she?" Shandri looked up at Usagi ponderously, weighing the merits of being so informal with the woman she was supposed to be serving.

"Well, I guess not."

"There you go then. In private you can treat her like a real person, and when you're in public you can go back to treating her like a stuck up snob." Feldrin grinned and squeezed Usagi close, only to have the young woman stick out her tongue in retribution. Ulin reappeared at the head of the trail with her arms crossed and a frown firmly in place.

"Are we going to practice, or are you going to jabber like a flock of geese all day?"

"Oh, go on Greenie! Don't get your shift in a bunch!" Feldrin winked at Shandri again, who was trying her best not to giggle.

"We're coming, Ulin. We're coming." Usagi gracefully slipped free of the ranger's arm and moved up to hook her arm around the Genasi's, tugging the sorceress away from the potential conflict.

"She really is a dragon lady, isn't she?" Feldrin's voice drifted up to Usagi's ears.

She felt Ulin tense slightly and then slowly relax. Usagi rubbed the jade-skinned woman's arm and smiled up at her comfortingly. Her efforts were rewarded with a small smile from the beautiful woman.

"She's not so bad, really." Usagi was forced to let go of Ulin's arm as the trail narrowed.

"I know. She's a bit more flippant than I'd care for, a trait common to her mother's kind." Ulin held up a branch for her friend to pass under. "I have nothing against elves, in fact I have many elvish friends. Feldrin is like a number of people I have come across in my travels. I know not of her prejudice against me, nor do I care really. Her constant needling is tiresome though."

"Do you want me to speak with her?" Usagi asked.

"No. There is no need. We will come to an understanding sooner or later."

"Hopefully sooner than later." Usagi noted with a smile. Ulin nodded but said nothing else on the subject.

They walked for approximately five more minutes before the trail dipped and then after another rise, descended into a large bend in a creek bed. Past flooding of the area had stripped and widened the channel to be approximately fifty yards wide and over thirty feet long. It wasn't what Usagi would call an ideal training spot, but there certainly wasn't much outside of mud and sand to get in the way. The sorceress waited until Shandri and Feldrin appeared before asking Usagi to instruct them. Usagi blinked, somewhat shocked that the more experienced woman was deferring to her. The ranger found a nice exposed tree root to lounge on and waited for the "lesson" to begin.

"I'm not sure where to begin." Usagi looked around nervously for a spot to settle.

"Can you explain the basis of the magic?" Ulin asked.

"Well, where I'm from, the Senshi were tied to other planetary bodies in our solar system."

"Planetary bodies? Solar system?" Shandri looked extremely lost already. Usagi sighed and looked around for some sort of visual aid to work with. She found a nice stick and a number of stones, and then proceeded to draw an extremely large, smiling sun in the sand.

"Okay. Astronomy 101. Let's see if I can do Haruna-san and Ami-chan proud. This is the sun." She pointed skyward and then back at her drawing. "It is the greatest source of light and heat for the world. It is the center of the solar system."

Usagi started dropping stones around the sun at varying intervals and drawing large looping circles around the sun to demonstrate their orbital paths.

"Uhm…the sun also produces gravity, by spinning in place, and…"

"What's gravity?" Feldrin asked. The ranger was notably intrigued.

"The, uhm, invisible force that keeps your feet on the ground." The ranger looked at her quizzically but nodded. "Now, pretend that these stones are planets, or worlds like Toril. Each one of them orbits around the sun. The number of planets and other stuff oribiting around a given sun is called a solar system. Understand?"

The group nodded.

"Now, where I'm from, each of the Senshi represented and drew their power from a planet." She pointed to each stone and began naming them. "Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, and Pluto."

"Why planets?" Ulin asked.

"I'm not sure. I can't really remember the reason why, but eventually the planets were populated and the Senshi were given the responsibility to govern over them."

"You mean there is life on other worlds?" Feldrin asked with a mocking grin.

"Sure. I mean it's pretty conceited to think that you're the only life in the universe, don't you think?"

Ulin also took the opportunity take a jab at the ranger.

"There are more worlds beyond your little woods, dear Feldrin, than there are leaves in all the trees on the face of Toril."

"And I suppose you've seen them, then?" The ranger pressed.

"More than a few." Ulin said smugly.

"Well, then. That makes one feel mighty insignificant doesn't it?"

Shandri nodded, wide-eyed. The expression caused Usagi to break out into a fit of laughter that the others joined in on. When the laughter had ended, Ulin rose to her feet and paced around the diagram Usagi had built.

"So, this magic is based on these planets you are showing us then?" Ulin asked.

"No. I mean I'm not certain, but I don't think so. First of all, we're not in the same solar system as these planets. So, I'm guessing that you will be tied to planets that orbit your sun. Do you guys know what the names of some of these might be?"

Shandri immediately shook her head, but it was Ulin who finally answered.

"There are the Dawn Heralds, Anadia and Coliar," She looked to the sky thoughtfully. "…the Tears of Selune, and the Five Wanderers: Karpri, Chandos, Glyth, Garden, and H'Catha."

"You mean to say that the stars in the sky are these planets of which you speak?" Feldrin barked a laugh. "There are millions upon millions in the night sky!"

"Not all of those are planets silly. Most of them are suns!" Feldrin's laughter died beneath the serious tone in Usagi's voice.

"But that would mean that…."

"Yes. There are lots and lots of planets out there." Usagi said.

"As enlightening as this all is, it does not explain how these powers work." Ulin stepped back to her original place and used her magic to conjure a seat out of the sand. Shandri looked on in amazement. "Now, you mentioned something about the magic being tied to these planets?"

"Yeah. Ami-chan, one of the other Senshi, said that we drew our powers from the planets themselves. Something about wells and conduits. I don't know how it is all supposed to work really. All I know is that the magic tended to follow elemental patterns."

Understanding dawned on Ulin's face and she nearly lost control of her construct at the thought of how much power that had the potential of being. The Harpell in her immediately wanted to start studying the possibilities, while her more logical half made it a point to keep this information out of the hands of her kin. Who knew what chaos would ensue if her cousins ever got wind of a planet-sized magical battery.

"Mystra preserve us! Do you have any idea of what this power could do?"

"I haven't really thought about it, to be honest."

Ulin began mumbling about safeguards and burnout, and something about a Karsus…whatever that was. Usagi just shrugged and looked back to the other two.

"So, my L…uhm, I mean Usagi-chan…" Shandri blushed. "How do we use this power?"

Usagi tapped her chin thoughtfully, trying to remember everything Luna had taught her about transforming, what seemed like a lifetime ago. After a moment, she adopted what she hoped was a wise demeanor – it turned out looking like she was constipated and Feldrin told her so.

"With great power comes great responsibility. We only use our power to protect the weak from monsters and bad guys."

"That's not what I…."

"Who are the bad guys?" Shandri was cut off mid-thought by Feldrin's somewhat defensive question. "Monsters I can appreciate, but what makes a bad guy, bad?"

"People who like to destroy things is generally a good sign that they're bad."

"Gotcha. People clearing forests to put up homes are bad." Feldrin nodded.

"No! That's not what I meant."

"But they're destroying the forest. Isn't that bad?" Feldrin asked seriously.

"There's more to it than that…" Usagi thought more about the question before answering. Ulin had presented her with a similar question a day or so back. "I think a better way of judging who the bad guys are, is to look at their intent. If it's morally wrong, like hurting people for personal gain, then it's bad."

That sounded much better.

"So in order to use this power, you have to be morally correct?" Feldrin asked. "Like a following a Paladin's code or religious tenant?"

"No. The power can be abused." Usagi looked a bit troubled, as if seeing something for the first time and not being able to come to terms with it. "But Shandri asked how it should be used, so I'm laying down the guidelines on how I hope she and Ulin will use this power. It was meant to serve and protect, not for personal gain. If one of you used it to hurt innocents, I would try and find a way to take it back."

Feldrin's eyes narrowed, thoughtfully regarding the young woman before her. Ulin nodded in agreement. Shandri just looked confused.

"Now in order to actually call on the power…" Usagi paused and squinted her eyes stoically.

"Yes?" Squeaked Shandri. Ulin leaned forward and Feldrin twisted on her branch, waiting for the great secret to be revealed.

"I have absolutely no idea."

Feldrin toppled off of her log and Ulin's sand chair collapsed under her completely. Shandri blinked and stared, uncertain if she had heard that correctly. Feldrin began laughing uproariously, while Ulin looked as if she had bit into a sour persimmon.

"What do you mean you have no idea?" Ulin demanded.

"Well it's tough to explain!" Usagi countered.

"Well try! How do you expect us to use this magic if we don't know how?" Ulin growled. "What happens if Shandri needs to protect herself, or you for that matter?"

Not for the first time since arriving on Toril, Usagi had a flash back to happier times. Visions of Rei blasting her with her fiery tongue made her eyes well up with tears and another wave of homesickness swept over her. Ulin looked uncertain and unsure of herself. It hadn't been the first time Usagi had gone weepy on her, but it did seem a bit more serious. She wasted no time in gathering Usagi into a comforting embrace.

"I'm sorry, Dear Heart."

"No. You're fine. This just reminded me of my home." She smiled up into the woman's exotic face. "My friend Rei would have been screaming at me to grow up right about now, or at the very least to get serious."

"Sounds pretty mean." Feldrin pointed out. Usagi shook her head.

"Not really. She just had no patience. Her element was fire, so it fits that she would be exploding all the time." Shandri giggled. "Besides, I know she only wanted the best for me and she was usually right. I needed to grow up."

She sighed and stepped from Ulin's embrace.

"Like I said before, I really don't have a clue how you will access your power. Luna only told me to look deep in my heart and say the first thing that came to mind. That is the best advice I can give you."

A silvery glow began to pulse at the center of her chest until her broach seemed to melt through the bodice of her dress. The light bathed everyone in the creek bed in the rays of a miniature moon as Usagi held her hands aloft.

"MOON ETERNAL MAKE UP!"

The transformation inundated the area in waves upon waves of raw power. Light spilled forth from Usagi, masking her suddenly nude figure. Feldrin was glad that she had fallen from her perch, for if she hadn't she knew that this shock would have made her earlier tumble a lot more painful. Shandri, having seen the end result simply sat in awe as the magic formed the bodice, skirt, and gloves of Sailor Moon's uniform. Ulin felt the whole thing was not only a waste of magic, but highly impractical. What enemy, in their right mind would wait for the transformation to end before attacking? She needed to study this magic closer and find a way to manipulate it better.

Once the transformation ended, Sailor Moon stood in all her power and glory. Shandri applauded, Feldrin whistled, and Ulin frowned thoughtfully. The Genasi stepped forward and closed her eyes in concentration for a moment, before raising her fist high above her head and calling out.

"ANADIA!"

A broad pillar of amber light engulfed Ulin's body completely and then shot heavenward, causing the ground beneath everyone else's feet to rumble and quake ominously. The column thinned after an instant, revealing the armored figure of Anadia, first of Toril's Senshi. The silver armor was still thin and flexible, with etched runes and gems decorating the amber trim. There were no bows and no frills whatsoever, although there was a veil and an odd circlet that encircled her head. Likewise, she wore amber bracers that Usagi hadn't noted the last time Ulin had transformed. All in all, the outfit was very practical in it's defense, without taking away from Ulin's exotic beauty.

"The power…it's incredible!" She made a fist and looked to Sailor Moon in awe. "I feel like I could do just about anything."

"That's what it felt like for me the first time I changed too." Sailor Moon said with a grin. She saw Shandri jump to her feet excitedly.

"Can I try now, Usagi-chan?"

Usagi barely got her nod out before the young woman's face scrunched up in concentration.

"COLIAR!"

An odd sigil etched itself on her forehead and then a spiral of gray clouds rose from the ground obscuring her body from view. A crack of thunder pierced the air almost knocking everyone flat. Feldrin's eyes were wide and excited, and it was impossible not to see the longing she obviously felt.

Coliar had the same type of armor that Anadia wore, but the runes were very different and the gems tended to be blue sapphires and turquoise. Her metal skirt was banded in something akin to Lapis Lazuli and where Anadia wore open toed sandals, Coliar had a pair of slippers. The wild grin on the girl's face was contagious and the smell of rain hung heavily about her.

"Oh, Silvanus! What I wouldn't give to join you girls."

Usagi's eyes widened as the heartfelt wish was spoken, and she felt the familiar tug at her breast as the Gunzuisho flared to life.

"DANG IT! NOT AGAIN!"

* * *

Klauthen Vale 

Deep beneath the Vale, Old Snarl, the Dragon of the North, chuckled at the sight of yet another Senshi joining the Court of the Silver Princess. Klauth's chuckle grew to full blown draconic laughter at the look of dread and surprise on the young woman's face. He had been watching her exploits carefully since her appearance – after all, it was pretty much the only thing the wounded dragon could do while he healed from his near death experience. That and ponder the majestic event he'd experienced at the hands of the Silver Princess.

He, like those refugees from Goruch's mines, had been touched by this pure young woman…touched and changed irrevocably. To think that this marauding monster, which had razed whole cities and devoured the unborn children of his kin, could know the touch of love and forgiveness…it was astonishing to say the least. So he had taken to watching this young woman who had pierced his blackened and shriveled heart with her purity. Day and night he studied her from the confines of his lair, and with each passing moment he fell more and more in love with her. He memorized her every nuance, from the sultry pout of her lips to the glistening sway of her silvery hair. Lust was not something a normal dragon understood all that well, coveting however was an emotion that this dragon was very intimate with.

Klauth was different from his kin though, in that he had studied humanity in all its forms and understood their habits very well. Thus he knew that coveting such a gem as the Silver Princess was nothing short of self-inflicted torture. In order to truly win her love and affection, Klauth had to become something he was not…virtuous. He had seen that when she faced off against the Lord of the Dead himself.

Yet, what knew he of virtue? Was it not a weakness? Was it not a folly of men to be exploited? It was madness that one such as he could be so moved by a woman like Serenity. He disliked the name Usagi. It did nothing to promote the true woman he had known in that brief instant before his spirit looked into the after life and saw hell. He saw his goddess Tiamat, her great devouring maw awaiting his spirit's coming with great anticipation. He knew that she would consume him, adding the power and majesty he had built in this life to her own greatness. Before knowing the sweetness of Serenity's touch, Klauth would have gone to his death gladly, but now he was afraid to meet his end. He was terrified that he would never again know the sweetness of peace and love that the Silver Princess represented.

Was this what Bahamut offered his children?

In spite of his conflicting emotions, Old Snarl yearned for the day when he could win the love of this woman. It was all he lived for. If she would but share his heart, everything that he had would be hers.

Klauth sighed and shifted his great bulk tenderly. Over half of his body was not healing as fast as it should have, but it worried him not. His full attention was fixed on the life playing out before him, and wondering how he might drink again from that bottomless well of love.

* * *

Highden 

Keiichi sat on an outcropping of rock overlooking a tide pool, Skuld's tome sat on a box, neatly wrapped in a bolt of wispy, blue-gray silk. In his lap lay an almost finished letter to Belldandy and her sisters describing his adventures so far. He wasn't sure, but he suspected that they probably knew everything that was going on in his life right now. It was a fulsome thought that three goddesses would take time out of whatever it was that deities did, to watch over him. But it was a notion that offered him some semblance of comfort all the same – comfort that he sorely needed.

The stress associated with this daunting quest was starting to weigh on him more and more; especially in light of all the new changes he'd found himself going through. He was still a bright blue, but only in a few places. He'd discovered that carrots helped tone his skin color down greatly. In the nine days since the event in the grove, Sister Maerdith had taken to cataloguing the changes and jotting notes down about her ideas and conclusions. He'd surprised her (and himself) one evening by pointing out an error in her recounting of his experience in the grove. The correction in and of itself wasn't so noteworthy; the fact that her notes were being written in an obscure elven dialect was what got everyone's attention. After that incident, the Ohgmite priestess returned to her library and returned with a number of books and scrolls to test Keiichi's ability to read.

Not only had Keiichi been able to read them, but he had perfect recall of everything he'd read. It wasn't so bad, although the rather lewd elven ballad written by Feherenthol Erfenvhol didn't sit well with him. Crass humor had never been something that he preferred to begin with, and now that he couldn't seem to forget the thing…well, having a photographic memory was turning out to be a double-edged blessing. Sister Maerdith was giddy to the point of excess when her theory tested true and had begged him to set aside a few hours a day to translating some rather archaic tomes that were laying around the abbey. He'd agreed of course, it was the least he could do to repay their kindness to him after all.

Still, the fact that he was ready and willing to help, put a spring into old Father Ellosin's steps and rumor had it that the head of the Abbey had sent out a number of communiqués to other libraries and monasteries inviting them to join the fun. Bertrold had stepped in as Keiichi's official agent at this point, and made certain that the young man would receive his just due for translating services. Keiichi didn't care so much about the money, but Bertrold pointed out that money put food on the table, a roof over your head, and bought materials for the workshop. The former didn't seem quite so important now, but then again he hadn't tested the limits of his stomach yet, so there was no way to be truly certain if he was truly free of the need for food or not.

Bertrold had made it a point to begin the process of buying the land that the cave was on (at Sam's insistence) in order to avoid any legal issues later on. It was better to err on the side of caution after all, and it was definitely less time consuming to buy supplies rather than make them yourself so, in the interest of making things easier for himself, he allowed Bertrold to negotiate a standard fee for his services. The whole affair cut into his work time, but the Festival was still a ways off so Keiichi wasn't too concerned.

The young man sighed and looked back at the letter in his lap. The epistle itself was another miracle unfolding before his very eyes. Skuld's tome had a rudimentary breakdown of Celestial grammar, which Keiichi had picked up fairly quickly in spite of his earlier linguistic struggles under Sister Maerdith's tutelage. He knew that there was probably more to the language that Skuld's book hadn't expounded on, but it was enough to help him say what needed to be said – and it was nice to be able to write in Belldandy's native tongue, even if he sounded like a little kid. Hopefully Urd wouldn't laugh at his penmanship too much. Celestial Runes made traditional Chinese and Kanji look like chicken scratch.

Noting the position of the sun, Keiichi suspected that Skuld would be arriving sometime soon to collect her tome. That meant that he needed to hurry to finish the letter. He wasn't sure if she would be coming herself, or if she would just recall the book to her. Either way, he didn't want to miss her. He bent back over the page and began writing again, requesting that Belldandy look after Megumi and hopefully deflect some of the problems that his absence was no doubt causing. He was almost finished when a shadow fell over his page.

"Greetings to you, young Master Morisato." The voice of Haroun Mostana was every bit as smooth and oily as his neatly trimmed beard. It left Keiichi feeling unclean. When he looked up at the priest, it was obvious that the gnome was trying hard not to stare at Keiichi's skin color and lack of hair.

The Jerk.

"Good afternoon, Mister Mostana…"

"_Artificer_ Mostana, if you please." The gnome corrected.

Mostana again wore the official saffron-colored robes of his office, decorated with gold cogs and silver gears along the hem and sleeves. His soft slippers seemed incongruous with the footwear that most worshippers of Gond preferred, and Keiichi noted from the way the gnome shifted uncomfortably that the trip along the beach had been rather taxing for the fastidious priest. His four gnomish companions seemed less put out by the environment, but the trip must have been quite distasteful.

"What can I do for you, Artificer?" Keiichi smiled politely. "Would you care for some tea?" He pointed to a large thermos, yet another successful (albeit simple) invention he had brought to the people of Faerun. Haroun's polite mask slipped for an instant, but slid back into place almost immediately.

"No, thank you. I've come on official business I'm afraid." Haroun's companions shifted slightly positioning themselves in a semicircle that blocked Keiichi's path back to the cave. It seemed innocent enough, but Keiichi's guard went up all the same.

"Oh? What business would that be?" Keiichi leaned back, casually putting his hand over a loose stone, just in case things weren't so above board.

"I've come at the request of High Builder Maverly, to ensure that you were properly informed of the etiquette and tradition surrounding the Festival of Creation."

"Thanks for the concern, really, but the Steelwater family has already brought me up to speed on that." Keiichi smiled.

"Truly? Well, I am glad to hear that Builder Steelwater is taking this matter seriously."

"He takes his religion seriously." Keiichi set his lap desk aide and set a stone on his letter to keep it from blowing away. "I admire his faith and dedication."

"He is a dwarf, Master Morisato. Their lives are not lived by half measures." Keiichi's smile disappeared as Haroun settled himself on a rock near by. The gnome picked up the thermos and opened the lid sniffing the tea inside. "Yulith tea. One of my favorites. Very soothing."

"It's growing on me."

"I think that I will take you up on that offer of tea. Would you mind?" He motioned to the thermos cup. Keiichi nodded. Haroun poured himself a small cup and breathed in the vapors before he sipped. "This is a remarkable achievement. Such a simplistic design, yet very straightforward in its practicality."

Keiichi took the compliment, rather than offending the gnome before him.

"I should think that this is a reflection of the character of the creator, am I correct in my assumption?"

"Sure. My teachers always taught that we should keep things simple. The more complex the solution to a problem, the more troubles you're likely to encounter later on."

"Well said. Well said." Haroun sipped his tea thoughtfully, staring out at the sea. "I will be frank with you, Master Morisato. Rather than continue this infantile conflict with Builder Steelwater and yourself, I am willing to retract my grievance if you would simply acknowledge the source of your inspiration."

Keiichi frowned.

"And how do you propose that I do that?"

"Nebelun, or Gond as you humans call him, has truly blessed you, Master Morisato. He is the Wonderbringer, and you have become something of a wonder among the Lantanese. Your designs have inspired a lot of talk and innovation among the inventors and clergy alike. My question to you is this: have you thought of repaying Nebelun's infinite generosity by putting your intellect and talent to service for his causes?"

Keiichi shifted nervously. Mostana had backed him into a corner and there was no way to avoid a confrontation.

"With all due respect to you and your beliefs, Artificer, my inspiration doesn't come from Nebelun…or Gond. My inspiration comes from love."

"Ah, but Gond is love, Master Morisato. The love of innovation, the love of exploration, the love of creation."

Keiichi shook his head.

"You miss my point, Artificer. I don't create or invent for the love of inventing. I'm inventing and creating in order to return to my home and the ones I love. Belldandy is my inspiration. She is the reason I create."

"I have heard stories of this…Belldandy, from others in town. She is your goddess?"

Keiichi nodded. In the strictest sense it wasn't true; he didn't formally worship Belldandy as the Gondar worshipped Gond, but she had devoted herself to him and he to her. In the end he felt Haroun didn't need an explanation of how things really were. Mostana seemed thoughtful for a moment before slapping his knee.

"Well, that is too bad really. I would have enjoyed introducing you to the wonders of Gond." His dark, beady eyes seemed to glisten like obsidian as he looked at Keiichi. "Still, I cannot come between a man and his religion. Perhaps then I should restate my offer to you with new conditions. After all, I've really no desire to pursue this frivolous litigation against Builder Steelwater anymore than you do."

"And what would those conditions be, Artificer?" Keiichi was glad that the gnome wasn't trying to convert him any longer, but at the same time there was an unhealthy gleam in Mostana's eyes that didn't sit well.

"A single condition really, nothing so terrible when you sit down and weigh the benefits. If you were to break with Bendlebranch and sign on with me as your patron, I would happily retract my suit and leave Builder Steelwater and his wife to live free and unmolested."

Keiichi frowned at the unspoken implications in the gnome's words. Mostana shifted forward abruptly. "Think on it! My contacts are vast. With the church backing you, you would have the official sanction of Gond and all the influence it brings. Between your inventions and my network, the riches to be had go beyond mere wealth! With the money you made, you could hire a dozen mages to work on your problem and be home in no time at all."

The more Mostana spoke, the more ill Keiichi felt. The gnome was a vile poison wrapped in the trappings of holiness! And the most terrible thing of all was that Keiichi was actually tempted for a moment to say yes! It would be so much easier to follow this path, instead of floundering around blindly as he had been. Mostana was certainly the type of person that had friends in high places, which would definitely open a number of doors for Keiichi that would otherwise remain closed. All he would have to do is betray the kindness and love of the people that had sacrificed so much for him. Logically it was the best chance, but morally it was criminal. Belldandy had always told him to follow his heart and his heart hated the price associated with Haroun Mostana's charity.

Despite his feelings for the Gondar priest, and his offer, Keiichi was Japanese. His rejection was polite yet firm.

"Your offer has a great deal of merit, Artificer Mostana. However, I am afraid that I cannot accept your terms." Keiichi looked skyward and smiled. "Belldandy would be sadly disappointed in me if I repaid the kindness Master Bendlebranch has offered me with such disloyalty. I am sorry, but I must decline your offer."

Haroun Mostana's face became very stony and he frowned as he looked to his companions.

"Is that your final word on the subject? Do you not want to take some time to think about what you are passing up?"

"I thank you for the offer, but there is no need to think it over. Wealth and fame are nice, but all the gold in the world cannot buy a true friend."

"I am sorry to hear that, Master Morisato. I was certain that you were a man of opportunity. I am afraid that this is a one-time offer and when I leave, it leaves with me. Will you not reconsider?" Mostana set the thermos cap aside, then stood and brushed off his robes self-importantly. He motioned to his companions and Keiichi had to fight down the sudden welling of fear in his gut.

"No, sir. I am a man of integrity." Keiichi felt his heart leap in his throat as the words slipped free. He wanted to slap his hands over his mouth for letting that thought escape. He'd never had the spirit to insult someone like that before and now he was certain that he was going to get beat up over it.

When the Gondar turned around again, his face was schooled and surprisingly smug. It was obvious that Keiichi had just drawn the battle lines; something he had hoped to avoid completely.

"Before I take my leave of you, and your _integrity_," The word twisted nastily off Mostana's tongue. "…might I inquire if Builder Steelwater informed you of the registration procedures?"

Keiichi frowned thoughtfully trying to suppress his nerves.

"Well, his wife said that all Gondar wishing to display their entries for judging had to register, and I did see him working on the registration forms…." Keiichi could easily see where this was going, and knew that the other shoe was about to drop.

"Then you were informed that you were required to submit your own registration form as well?"

"No. I was not so informed."

"Oh, that is too bad." Haroun's smile took on a triumphant gleam as he shook his head in mock sadness.

"When is the deadline for registration?" Here came the shoe.

"Sadly, the deadline was this morning." Keiichi's heritage came into play, as a life of social etiquette and cultural politeness kept him from jumping up and screaming at the gnome. "However, I'm sure that there are a few strings that I can pull on your behalf. For a favor or two."

Keiichi's anger was truly testing the bonds he'd set on them as he looked up at the gnome. The Gondar priest just insisted on dragging this confrontation out. Keiichi silently raged inside as he looked for a way to avoid falling into Mostana's debt. Keiichi smiled as a thought hit him.

"Didn't you say earlier that High Builder Maverly gave you the responsibility to see that I was informed of the proper etiquette and tradition of the festival?"

"Yes. I did."

Keiichi's smile broadened.

"Then perhaps you can answer a question for me about the competition associated with the Festival of Creation." Mostana nodded, folding his arms. "Has the registration process always been a part of the festival, or is it a recent tradition?"

Mostana's frown looked to be a permanent fixture of his stony face now.

"It was instituted by the Wonderbringer when he came to us during the Time of Troubles, so that there might be a proper record made and preserve the ideas presented in the celebration."

"So, as a participant it is required to register in a timely manner? It would be bad etiquette to register late?" Mostana nodded gruffly.

"Then I'd better get busy and write an apology letter to High Builder Maverly. If I explain the situation, maybe there is a way that I can register late. Don't worry, I'll let him know that you were really busy and couldn't get me the information in time to register."

"Why didn't Builder Steelwater inform you? Didn't you say that he had brought you, how did you put it – 'up to speed' on things?"

"Well, poor Duncan has a lot on his plate right now. Besides, I'm certain that he would have told me had the High Builder asked him." Keiichi was starting to feel invigorated by this whole verbal sparing thing. Megumi would have been so proud of him!

Mostana snorted, then without further comment, turned on his heel and stormed off down the path back to town, leaving Keiichi and the priest's companions staring at one another lamely. He shrugged and smiled at their scowls as, one by one, they filed off down the path.

When he was certain that they were gone he sighed. There was little doubt that Mostana was going to cause more trouble because of this rejection. Keiichi made a mental note to tell Duncan about this as soon as possible then turned back to his letter. The lap desk was there, but the letter and Skuld's Tome were missing! He frantically searched the area for them, dreading what Skuld was going to do to him when she came for the book.

_**BOOOM!**_

A cloud of thick purple smoke rose a few feet in front of Keiichi, knocking him to the ground. He blinked and coughed, trying to clear the offending stench and vapor from his face, when he noted that one of Haroun's companions seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

His skin was decidedly plaid, except for his face which was a dark purple hue, bordering on black. The word "THEIF" had been tattooed in large scarlet letters across the gnome's forehead. There was a crazed look in the poor fellow's eyes as he stared into space at nothing in particular. Still clutched under one arm and secured by the gnome's hands, was Skuld's tome. It was vibrating wildly; so much so that the larcenous gnome's whole body was bouncing on the ground.

"What the heck is going on?" Keiichi demanded.

Looking at the gnome, it was all too apparent that he was in shock. Having been on the receiving end of Skuld's ire, Keiichi could empathize. Served the idiot right though. Everyone knew that they shouldn't steal. It was bad karma. Keiichi rolled his eyes and retrieved the tome, sliding his still unfinished letter from between the pages. It was a bit crispy around the edges, but otherwise intact. He slid it back into the book and dusted a bit of soot from the cover.

"I STOLE HER BOOK!" The gnome screamed, causing Keiichi to jump. "I'M A DIRTY ROTTEN THEIF!"

You are so gonna get it. Keiichi thought darkly, as he recovered the disheveled package of gifts he'd gotten for his friends and family from a small bag at the gnome's hip. How had the little man gotten past him unseen?

He opened his mouth to tell gnome to get lost, when the water in the tide pool began to glow in a very familiar way. Before he could warn the gnome off, Skuld, in the same body of a mature young woman as before, leapt free from the water, and floated over to Keiichi with her wicked looking warhammer slung over one shoulder. She was dressed in the same form fitting armor and plated skirt from the grove and was wreathed in angry red flames. The amount of power radiating off her was palpable and wild, and it was hard for Keiichi to remember the bratty little girl that brained him in the bath on her first visit to the shrine, when faced with this incarnation of the goddess.

"**KERDEN BLOWBUTTON!**" The gnome screamed and tried, unsuccessfully, to bury himself under a rock. There was nowhere to run from Skuld's eyes though. "**I AM ASHAMED OF YOU!**"

She looked down at the cowering gnome, noting with special interest the items that Keiichi had taken from him. Her face darkened and the light on the outcrop seemed to dim with it.

"I STOLE YOUR BOOK!" Kerden screamed with tears in his eyes.

"**YES YOU DID.**" Skuld's face was stern and even frightened Keiichi a little. He couldn't imagine what the poor gnome was going through. "**IT'S NOT NICE TO STEAL FROM A GODDESS.**"

"I'M A DIRTY ROTTEN THEIF!" Kerden was weeping now.

"**YES YOU ARE.**" Skuld's flames intensified for a moment. "**AND NO, GOND CANNOT SAVE YOU. YOU NASTY LITTLE ROGUE!**"

Kerden moaned and curled into a little ball.

"**WELL? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO TO MAKE RESTITUTION?**"

Kerden rolled to his knees and immediately began begging her forgiveness in the most pathetic manner possible. It was so pitifully disgusting that Keiichi had to look away. He turned to Skuld and smiled weakly, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Hi, Skuld-chan. Come for your book?" She nodded absently, not taking her eyes off of Kerden for an instant. "Well, thanks for lending it to me. It helped a lot."

She nodded again as he handed her the book.

"There's a letter in there for everyone. Just try not to laugh too hard at my grammar. Celestial is going to take forever to master."

"You tried writing in Celestial?" Keiichi scratched the back of his neck and nodded. "Wow. I'm…well, wow." Her face lit up with excitement. "Did you find the plans Hephaestus gave me?"

Keiichi nodded again and produced his data journal. It was large and clunky, but sturdy and well made. Skuld seemed duly impressed. "I can't believe you managed to make it. I didn't think you'd be able to. It looks a bit crude, but sturdy. Great job! ."

"It was tough." Keiichi admitted with a blush. "But I had fun. It's already come in handy."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You had some great ideas that I wanted to study some more, so I hope you don't mind that I copied a few pages here and there."

"You didn't copy any of the private stuff, did you?" The air seemed to grow thick again as Skuld's eyes narrowed and electricity arced off her arms. Keiichi shook his head and waved his hands, causing the present in his hand to sway. Her curiosity peaked, the air around Keiichi returned to normal. "What's that?"

"I found a few things that I thought everyone back home might like." He scratched the back of his neck again. "You know souvenirs."

"You got me a gift?" Skuld squealed and clapped. "What is it?"

Keiichi motioned for her to open the box and watched with open pleasure as she carefully undid the silk.

"The silk was to be for all of you. I know there's not a lot there, but I thought that Belldandy might be able to make everyone a handkerchief or something from it. Supposedly it's elven and enchanted against fraying. Sorry about the soot," He glared at the still prostrating Kerden darkly. "…I wasn't expecting it to be in an explosion."

Skuld blushed.

"Don't worry about it. Big sister should be able to do something with it." Skuld was about to continue when she found a carefully wrapped present with her name on it. With one quick look up at Keiichi she began unwrapping the cheesecloth from the large gift. When it was finally revealed, she gasped.

"It's an extra special, extra large, ice cream bowl. Well, not really. My friend's wife, Sam, said that it's a dwarven washbowl." Keiichi grinned and pointed out the little hammer and runic designs decorating the sides. "When I saw it though, I thought of you and couldn't pass it up. I figure you can take it to Thirty One Flavors, next time you go, and get a scoop of each."

Skuld squealed again joyfully and hugged Keiichi. When she realized what she had done she backed off immediately, blushing.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Skuld folded her arms gruffly and wrinkled her nose at Keiichi.

"You realize that I have to give you another boon for this, don't you?" Keiichi shrugged weakly and shook his head. "Well, I do. It's stretching the rules a bit, since you're not officially my petitioner, but I can't just ignore something like this. Mind you, this is it. From here on out you're on your own. I won't be able to do this again, and the Head Office has forbidden any more interference in your Ascension, so from here on out you can't expect any thing else from back home."

Keiichi nodded in understanding and Skuld began tapping her chin thoughtfully. Kerden had paused in his groveling momentarily to watch the interplay, but when he felt Skuld's eyes on him, he redoubled his efforts.

"The question is…what should I reward you with? Something small for the silk and something super useful for the bowl."

She snapped her fingers absently and stuck her hand into the air. Kerden gasped, as half her arm seemed to be swallowed by nothing at all. She dug around for a moment, pushing her arm deeper and deeper into the air, causing it to disappear up to her shoulder before grinning triumphantly.

"Ah ha! Here we go. Something small…." She produced a small iridescent, pearl colored egg. It glowed and shimmered softly, even in the full light of the sun, as Skuld gently placed it in Keiichi's palm. "It's very fragile, so be extra careful with it."

"What is it?" Keiichi asked in wonder. "Is it an angel's egg?"

He'd seen a demon's egg once which, when it had hatched, had nearly killed Sayoko. This looked similar, but _felt _different. Skuld snorted.

"Don't be silly! You have to have your qualification in order to have an angel!" She rolled her eyes. "No, this is something else. I can't say more than that, or it will get counted against you. Just be patient, exercise a little faith, and follow your heart – you'll know what to do when the time comes. Now then, time for something useful."

Keiichi nodded as Skuld pushed her arm back into the nothingness. This time around, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted though and pulled her arm back right away. In her hand was something that looked like a tiny, pink and gold cellular phone, no more than eight inches long, and maybe three inches wide.

"This is my notebook for Secondary and Pre-Qualification studies." She pulled out a long thing cord and hooked it into a port on the spine of Keiichi's textbook sized data journal. "It's got about ten times the processing capacity of my initial notebook, and a few bells and whistles that Old Heph's design didn't."

She clipped the device to her hip and summoned a holographic keyboard. When Keiichi raised an eyebrow and asked her about it she just smiled and murmured happily about how wonderful Auntie Washu's code was. She then peeked at the still praying Kerden out of the corner of her eye as she continued to type, and nodded at the fact that the gnome hadn't slowed down.

"Okay. Father said that I could give you all my extra curricular notes and whatnot, but anything that had to do with mainstream studies was strictly forbidden. If you Ascend, then you'll get the orientation packet and the Qualification study guide. Most of the major stuff is all legalities and regulations anyway, which is something that really won't help you here anyway since Lord Ao's set everything up on a different system. I don't know how much of this will be allowed by the local system and what won't; and on top of that, there's no telling what you'll be able to understand. I'm a goddess, and there were some subjects that gave me trouble. In the end you'll just have to experiment to see what works."

She paused in her typing to fix Keiichi with a particularly penetrating glare.

"Some words of caution up front: If it doesn't make sense, or you feel like your mind's hit a brick wall and can't move forward with a subject, leave it alone. The majority of this stuff wasn't meant for mortals anyway. Just accept the fact that until you shake off your present mortality, you won't have the faculties necessary to do certain things. If you press too far…well, don't say that I didn't warn you – and don't expect me to come and clean up the mess."

She shrugged and went back to typing. Keiichi's curiosity gripped him and he ventured to find out more.

"What could happen?"

"The possibilities are endless, Keiichi. Just trust me on this and don't mess around. Know and respect your limitations. The last thing we want is to lose you, and with some of this stuff...well, suffice it to say that we can do a lot to put your pieces back together, but you'd never be the same."

Keiichi swallowed hard and shifted his feet nervously.

"Are you sure that you want to give me access to the knowledge then?"

Skuld nodded.

"If I had more time I could separate out the higher level stuff, but my window of action here is strictly enforced. I've a foreordained amount of time to do my thing and then I get pulled back to our Heaven. I'm encrypting what I can with the time available. Once you reach a certain level of power or understanding, it should unlock new things for you. It's up to you to discern if you're ready to explore. Just use your common sense. Father put it there for a reason."

The goddess of the future fell silent then and focused herself on working. By the time she was done, an hour had passed and poor Kerden's voice was raw and hoarse. She handed the data journal back to Keiichi and stashed her own belongings back into the ether.

"There you go. You're all set." She paused and tapped her lip for a moment before continuing. "Everyone back home says 'Hi.' and I'm supposed to give you a kiss and a hug from Big Sister. The hug you can have, but there's no way I'm kissing you."

Keiichi laughed and accepted the embrace warmly. Before he and Skuld parted though, he kissed her cheek causing the young goddess to blush bright red.

"Pass that on to Belldandy for me?"

Skuld smiled and nodded. She looked to want to say something, but a bell tolled somewhere and she wrinkled her nose.

"Darn. I'm running out of time. Okay, real quick. If I can, I'll poke my head in from time to time to say hi. Its not for sure, but I took a peek at some probabilities down the line and…well, let's just say that things look hopeful that I'll have a reason to visit." She shook her finger at Keiichi in admonishment. "No more boons though!"

"Gotcha." Keiichi said. "What are you going to do with him?"

"Crud, I was hoping that I wouldn't have to make this all official. Rules are rules though." Skuld looked down at Kerden crossly and seemed to grow, becoming a twenty-foot tall version of herself. The earth shook beneath Keiichi's feet and an aura of power exploded from the goddess. Keciichi reflexively fell to his knees and prostrated himself before the Norn of the Future.

"**I AM SKULD, NORN OF THE FUTURE, GODDESS OF DREAMS UNREALIZED.**"

Skuld's body didn't change further, but her warhammer seemed to grow a bit larger, and if possible more menacing.

"**BE AT PEACE BELOVED OF THE NORNS, STAND ASIDE AND LET JUSTICE BE DONE.**"

Keiichi scrambled aside as he was commanded, and waited for the fire and brimstone to fall. Skuld surprised him though, by simply reaching down and gently touching Kerden on the forehead.

"**THY HEART IS KNOWN UNTO ME, SON OF GARL. I SEE ALL OF YOUR SECRETS AND KNOW ALL OF YOUR PLANS. THE THREAD OF YOUR LIFE IS STRETCHED BEFORE ME, AND I HOLD IT TAUGHT. SIN AGAINST ME AGAIN AND MY VENGEANCE WILL FALL UPON YOU SWIFTLY.**"

Thunder rolled in the clear sky above and the earth before Kerden opened, spewing fire and dark clouds of smoke.

"**OFFEND AND I WILL CUT YOU DOWN LIKE SUMMER WHEAT AT THE HARVEST. PLEASE ME AND I WILL REWARD YOU WITH THE MORNING DEW OF HEAVEN. HEED THIS WARNING AND SHARE IT WITH THOSE THAT HARBOR ILL WILL TOWARDS THIS FAVORED SON OF MAN – HE IS PRECIOUS TO US AND NEITHER GOD NOR MORTAL SHALL STAY OUR WRATH SHOULD HE COME TO HARM.**"

Skuld pointed at Keiichi, and he suddenly felt full of love. She paused in her speech and turned to face him.

"**AND IF YOU SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THIS TO URD, KEIICHI MORISATO, I'VE GOT A SKULD-BOMB WITH YOUR NAME ON IT!**"

Keiichi shook his head frantically. This seemed to satisfy Skuld.

"Now, what am I forgetting?" The goddess tapped her chin and looked skyward thoughtfully. "Oh yeah!"

She snapped her fingers, causing a miniature sonic boom to shake the stones and cause the waves of the tide pool to splash.

"**ACCORDING TO AO'S LAW, AS YOU HAVE STOLEN FROM ME, CHILD OF GOND, I CLAIM YOU FOR MYSELF, UNTIL THE DEBT IS PAID AND TRUE RESTITUTION MADE.**"

She quickly set to drawing a fiery rune in the air above Kerden's head and then touched his forehead lightly causing a smaller symbol to appear beneath her finger.

"**THIS IS MY SIGIL. LOOK FOR IT IN YOUR DREAMS, KERDEN BLOWBUTTON, FOR IT WILL BE THE SIGN OF MY COMING.**"

Skuld seemed to fade a bit, and just before she disappeared completely the goddess raised her hand to her lips and blew him a kiss. A sudden, giddy, warmth filled him and he heard Belldandy's loving voice singing in his ears. He lost himself in the moment so fully, that he didn't see or hear Kerden stumble away down the path.

This day would have far reaching repercussions, but lost as he was in the present, Keiichi didn't care. All that mattered was the beautiful voice, filling his ears.

* * *

_End Chapter 7_


	10. Chapter 8

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Disclaimer:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Forward:**

Thanks again for all of your comments! They've kept me writing.

C&C appreciated.

Enjoy!

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

**Realms **

Chapter Eight 

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The world fell away and Ranma was left floating in eternity. He felt small, weak, and completely exposed. All of his secrets, all of his faults, and all of his dreams were laid bare for the universe to see. He saw himself for whom and what he was…a petty, willful, little child. But, even amidst the harsh reality of this truth, he felt loved in a way that he had never known before.

He watched his life play out around him. Every moment of damning weakness and every moment of praise-worthy sacrifice was remembered, up until this very moment – and then the universe went pitch black.

He lingered there, floating in the void, wondering if he had died and been judged. If he had, then this was certainly not the good place. If there was a Hell, he supposed this would be it – a place of nothing. No light, no sound, no company – just the awareness of an eternal never-ending darkness and the memory that there had been, at one time, something more.

He was uncertain how long he drifted alone in the darkness, but the loneliness and fear were starting to get to him. He was panicking, remembering the pit and the sounds of the night from his childhood. Tears wanted to come, but he held them in. He wasn't a kid any more, and he would face this like a man – no matter how scary this was.

It was then that he saw a pinprick of light off in the distance. It grew slowly, enveloping him in a bright warmth that made him feel strangely complete.

"WELCOME SON OF ADAM." The voice was soft and loving, filled with an undertone of paternal delight and unconditional love. It was the voice he'd always wished Genma would use.

"Are you God?" He whispered.

"I AM WHAT I AM, SAOTOME RANMA. ONE TRUTH AMONG MANY."

It wasn't an answer that Ranma readily understood, but that in and of itself clarified the nature of the voice for the displaced martial artist.

"Am I dead?"

"NO. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE?"

"I don't think so." He admitted nervously.

"THAT IS GOOD."

"Can you tell me what's going on? I mean, why I'm here and all?"

"I CAN. ARE YOU CERTAIN YOU WANT TO KNOW?"

"I think so. Yeah."

"YOU'VE BEEN GIVEN AN OPPORTUNITY THAT FEW EVER RECEIVE."

"You mean all that stuff about me being a god and shi…er…uh…all that stuff?"

"YES. THAT." There was a bright smile hidden behind the voice's deadpanned reply.

"But I can't be a god. I mean I'm just a guy…a nobody!"

"YOU ARE HARDLY 'NOBODY' RANMA. YOU HAVE BEEN JUDGED WORTHY OF THE POWER AND RESPONSIBILITY YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN AND THAT FACT, MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE, MAKES YOU SOMEBODY SPEACIAL."

"But I don't want to be a god! I got enough crap…I mean…_stuff_ ta deal with in my life already!"

"WANT RARELY HAS ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE RESPONSIBLITIES ONE MUST CARRY, RANMA. YOU ABOVE ALL OTHER KNOW THE PRICE OF DUTY."

"You got that right…" Ranma mumbled under his breath.

He paused for a moment trying to think things through. Numerous run-ins with Nabiki and Shampoo had taught him to be careful, but they also taught him not to just roll over and give in where there might be a possibility of negotiation. If there was a way for him to get out o this, then he was going to take it. He cast his mind over the conversation again, looking for loopholes.

"Wait a minute! What do you mean _duty_? I certainly don't remember accepting any duty to no one!"

"DID YOU NOT YOU ACCEPT CORELLON LARAETHIAN'S GIFT?"

"Awww, crap! That sneaky bastard!" Ranma slapped his hands over his mouth quickly and hoped that he hadn't offended.

He wasn't a very religious person, and given the way that the gods were playing with his life he wasn't exactly certain that he wanted to be either. Then again, this…being…was saying that he was going to be a god – presumably whether he liked it or not. Ranma guessed that sooner or later he'd need to find religion – if it didn't find him first. Still, it wouldn't do to tempt Fate any more than he already had by shooting his mouth off.

"So by accepting the gift, I accepted the responsibility that went along with it?" Ranma frowned. "But I didn't know what he was giving me. That's got ta count for something!"

"TRUE. UNDER THE CIRCUMSTANCES, YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO RENOUNCE THE GIFT – OR PASS IT ON TO ANOTHER. HOWEVER, THAT DOES NOT CHANGE THE FACT THAT YOU HAVE CHANGED THE NATURE OF MYSTRA'S WEAVE, OR THAT YOU HAVE TAINTED SHAR'S SHADOWS WITH YOUR LIGHT. IT WAS BY AND THROUGH YOUR ACTIONS, SON OF ADAM, YOU CHOSE THIS PATH."

"What do ya mean that I chose this path?" Ranma demanded angrily. "I didn't ask ta be a god! I didn't know that any of this would happen!"

"IGNORANCE CANNOT CHANGE YOUR RESPONSIBILITY FOR BRINGING YOURSELF TO THIS POINT. THIS PATH IS YOURS, RANMA."

"Well, I don't want ta walk this path any more! How do I get off?"

"THERE ARE MANY ROADS TO TRAVEL, AND ALL START WITH A SINGLE STEP."

"I don't need Zen koans! Tell me how I can go back ta bein' normal!"

"DEFINE 'NORMAL' PLEASE."

Ranma was certain that the entity was smiling at him.

"You know damn…er…I mean, 'darn' well what I'm gettin' at! I want ta go back ta bein' like I was."

"YOU CAN NEVER MOVE BACKWARD IN TIME, RANMA. THE PAST IS SET IN STONE. YOU CAN ONLY MOVE FORWARD. EVEN THEN, ALL ACHIEVEMENTS HAVE THEIR PRICE - ALL JOURNEYS DEMAND SACRIFICE. TO FORSAKE YOUR DIVINITY WOULD REQUIRE YOU TO ABANDON YOUR ART."

"Whaddaya mean 'Abandon' my art?"

"YOUR ART IS AT THE HEART OF YOUR GODHOOD. IT WAS THE VEHICLE THAT SET YOU ON THE PATH YOU NOW WALK. THROUGH YOUR ART, YOU TAPPED INTO MYSTRA'S WEAVE AND SHAR'S ANTITHISIS. BY THE POWER OF YOUR ART YOU CLEANSED MYTH DRANNOR. IN ORDER TO BALANCE THE SCALES, YOU WOULD HAVE TO FORSAKE THIS PRACTICE."

"There ain't no way I'm givin' up the Art! I've sacrificed too much for it already!"

"THEN YOU MUST ACCEPT THE CALLING THAT YOU HAVE ASSUMED."

"C'mon! Gimme a break here! Can't ya just take the power back or somethin'? There's got ta be a way around this!"

"NO. TAKING THE POWER BACK WOULD LEAVE A VOID IN CREATION THAT YOU NOW OCCUPY. THE HONOR WAS GIVEN TO YOU, AND NATURE HAS MOVED TO ACCEPT YOUR PLACE AND POWER. THERE ARE HOWEVER, MANY CHOICES YOU COULD MAKE THAT WILL ALLOW YOU THE FREEDOM YOU SEEK. THE QUESTION REMAINS, ARE YOU WILLING TO PAY THE PRICE FOR THAT FREEDOM?"

"Oh, fer cryin' out loud! Just tell me already! What do I gotta do ta get out from underneath this?"

"WHAT WOULD YOU DO TO FILL THE VOID YOU WOULD LEAVE?"

"I don't know…there's gotta be someone else that can do the job."

The world shifted and the light changed to become an ancient Temple, floating in a maelstrom of opposing forces. It was maddening to try and catalogue everything, from the impossible architecture to the strange elemental storms that raged around him, so Ranma chose to focus on the massive stone tablets floating above an altar at the center of the Temple. Near the altar a number of shadowy figures stood looking up at the tablets. The majority of them were female, not that gender really had any meaning in a place like this, but Ranma noted one or two that looked…or rather…felt…more masculine. The closer Ranma came to them, the more familiar a number of them became. Two women in particular stood out. Both had dark hair, but that was where the resemblance ended.

"Oi! I know you! You were in that crazy dream I was just having!" He blushed deeply at the rather…nice…memories of all that had happened in that dream. Man, Akane was going to kill him!

One of the women stepped forward. She was beautiful, if one could use that word for someone so perfectly proportioned. Her dark hair danced in a silent breeze, and her radiant skin glowed in the light of eight silver stars that orbited her head.

"It was no dream, Ranma Saotome." She smiled lovingly at him and he felt suddenly chill. Echoes of memories danced in his mind…things about her that he knew weren't there before. He felt connected to this woman, as if she were a part of him that had been missing for a very long time.

"Who are you?" He whispered.

"I am the Weaver, the Road Ascending, the One True Way. I am the Mother of All Magic, the Lady of Mysteries, the Breath of Creation." Her smile changed slightly, becoming…well…more mysterious as she stepped closer. "I have many names, but I am most fond of Mystra."

"Mystra…huh." Ranma shifted uncomfortably. "Well, Mystra, I guess I owe you an apology for, you know, messin' with yer weaving and all. I don't know how ta fix what I did but, I mean, I ain't cut out ta be a god. You know?"

Mystra smiled and trailed her fingers over his cheek affectionately. Ranma shivered at the sudden excitement that little touch caused in him.

"IT IS NOT PERMITTED."

If anything could be considered a wet blanket, that statement was. Not only that, but it pissed Ranma off to no end.

"What!" Ranma roared at the chaos above him. "Why not? You said that I had to find a replacement! Well, she's as good as any here!" The voice above him did not answer, but Mystra stepped forward drawing his attention back to her.

"It is the price that I must pay for my own folly, Ranma. I broke Lord Ao's law and therefore I must embrace the consequences for my actions. Part of that is giving up the power that you now possess."

"Well, that sucks." Ranma groused.

He looked around the crowd until his eyes fell on the other woman that seemed familiar. She was tall, maybe seven to eight feet, with a lithe and powerful dancer's figure. Her skin was jet black, and Ranma could have sworn he saw tiny fields of stars twinkling back at him. The costume she wore left little to the imagination, and the subtle sensuality that she exuded made Ranma blush.

"What about you? You want the job?" She looked hopeful and started to nod.

"SHE IS FORBIDDEN."

"Man! You ain't helpin' me here!" Ranma growled.

Why was it that it was always so easy to get into trouble, but so damn hard to get out? He scanned everyone and shook his head. The woman black skinned woman looked both angry and sad at Ao's declaration. The glare she leveled Ranma's way reminded him of Akane for some reason.

"Well, shoot! Is there anyone here that can take the job?"

No one spoke or moved forward, leaving Ranma to hang his head in defeat.

"Well, suppose that would be just too easy now wouldn't it?" He sighed and then squared his shoulders. He looked up into the maddening maelstrom and shook his finger at it. "I sure as heck ain't gonna take this lyin' down! You hear me? There's gotta be someone out there besides me that can do the job."

"I'm certain there is, Ranma." Mystra slipped her hand in his and lead him over to the tablets. "In the meanwhile, you will just have to carry the burden until you find someone worthy of assuming the mantle. Who knows, maybe the life will grow on you."

"Fat chance." Ranma sighed and looked up at the "sky" again – it was an ocean of water now. He wracked his brain for a solution, and his mind drifted to all the other crap he'd been saddled with. On the one hand, the idea wasn't so bad. As a god he didn't have to worry about honor pledges, curses, fiancées, or any of the fat Panda's garbage. On the other hand, he also had no idea how to be a god. What if he screwed up?

"Fine. You win. But I don't want no freebies here. Can ya put some sort of whammy on me that'll let me grow inta this power until I find someone ta take over for me? I need ta be able ta do this slowly, otherwise I'm gonna go nuts trying ta take it all in." Ranma frowned. "Hell, it might already be too damn late for that."

Ranma reflexively slapped his hand over his mouth again. Mystra coughed at his side nervously and looked as if she wanted to slip away from Ranma's general vicinity. He felt a sudden tingle of anxiety shoot through his body and shivered a bit.

"SO BE IT."

Ranma sighed involuntarily, thanking whatever powers that be for not being smited…or smote…or whatever they called it.

The raging torrent flowing through him slowly calmed – it was as if a dam was suddenly erected to hold the immense power and awareness at bay. He hadn't even realized the power had been there until it was restrained. He still felt stronger than he should have been and he knew it would take a lot of time to adjust to this new level. That, in and of itself, was one of the only positive things to this whole mess – he didn't need an incentive to train, but any excuse to get stronger was readily embraced.

"So, what do I gotta do between now and the time I find my heir?" He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I mean, I know there's gotta be more ta all this than just a power up."

The golden skinned goddess, Kihon'i, waved her hand and a smaller set of tablets appeared before the larger ones.

"Here are the rules that you need to abide by."

"I ain't much for reading right now." Ranma rubbed his temple. He had a headache the size of Honshu and just the thought of reading made him want to puke. "Can ya give me the rundown?"

"Basically, you're in charge of certain aspects of Reality. Lord Ao's set it up so that most of the stuff you're responsible for will be take care of itself until you grow into your role. However, there will be some things that you will need to address personally."

"Like what?"

"First off, you're going to be responsible for answering the prayers of your followers."

"Prayers? Followers? Since when do I have followers?" Ranma blinked. "Whoa! Whoa! You mean I'm gonna have people making shrines and temples to me, and pesterin' me fer crap all day long?"

"Not right off the bat, no." Kihon'i smirked. "It's something that you'll work into."

Ranma sighed in relief.

"Good. I don't want people ta pray ta me! That's just creepy."

Mystra laughed and patted his arm.

"Until you manage to find an heir Ranma, you are a god. Gods need worshippers to live. So, if you want to live, you need people to pray to you."

The martial artist turned god, threw his hands into the air. This just kept getting better and better.

"Aww, MAN! This sucks!"

"Do you know how many people would love to change places with you?" Kihon'i asked incredulously.

"Can ya give me a list of names?" Ranma asked hopefully.

"Trust me, none of them would do the job half as well as you." Mystra smiled and Ranma noted that one of the other gods…a silent, pointy eared man with gold hair, smirked and nodded his agreement. Ranma narrowed his eyes at the elf god and growled darkly, fingering the silver torque around his neck. Shadowy memories started to solidify and crystallize in his mind. The weird dream that wasn't a dream came into focus, and the conversation outside of his "castle" took on a whole new light.

"You son of a…! You didn't tell me this was my ticket to godhood!" Ranma stabbed a finger at the silver torque and a blue nimbus erupted around his body. Mystra quickly placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and moved in front of him to draw his attention away from the suddenly sweating elf god.

"We didn't have time to give you all the details, Ranma. You were pulled away from us before we had a chance to explain what was involved in the gift."

Ranma snorted and looked back at Corellon suspiciously before nodding.

"Whatever."

"It's not as bad as it seems." Mystra took up his hand and smiled demurely. "If you'd like, I will help you adjust."

Ranma looked into her dark eyes and swallowed at the beauty and mysterious promise he found there. The memories of the dream…or whatever it was…rose unbidden in his mind's eye, causing him to blush uncomfortably. As far as "first times" went, it hadn't been anything like he dreamed of. For one thing, he was still alive and in one piece.

Damn it all! The other girls were going to kill him!

He shook his head and tried to push the memories of the experience aside, which was harder than it seemed. Damnit, he needed to get back on track here. He was sure that there was more to Mystra's offer than just wanting to help. He wasn't sure he was all that opposed to the idea either, and that scared him. Rather than follow those ideas any further, he focused instead on her next words.

"I've already placed your symbol in some of my temples. You will hear the prayers of the faithful, and after a time you will become used to their petitions."

He nodded and sighed.

"Is there anything else I gotta know about?"

"Of course there is, but you wanted to grow into it. Right?" Kihon'i smiled and tapped the Tablets of Fate, causing them to glow for a moment. When the glow faded, a miniature replica floated before her. She stepped forward and pushed the tiny stones into Ranma's chest. The young god's eyes bulged.

"Whoa! I know…a lot."

She placed one hand over his heart and patted his cheek with the other.

"Well, we aim to please. It's all in here now, Sport. Good luck!"

"No joke." He whispered. "Man, that was weird."

Mystra and some of the other gods laughed.

"LET IT BE UNDERSTOOD."

He felt, for the first time in his life, as if someone trusted him implicitly.

"YOU ARE NO LONGER RANMA SAOTOME, SON OF GENMA AND NODOKA. YOU ARE NO LONGER A PART OF THE MORTAL WORLD. UNTIL SUCH A TIME AS THE MANTLE IS PASSED ON TO YOUR HEIR, YOU ARE AND WILL FOREVER BE A CHILD OF AO. YOU ARE BOUND TO THE LAW, AND THE LAW IS BOUND TO YOU. HONOR THIS CALLING AND YOU SHALL FIND JOY AND FULFILLMENT."

Ranma watched as many of the gods and goddesses cheered and applauded him. It was both weird and kind of nice to be recognized in this way, but it still left Ranma eeling awkward and embarrassed. Faces blurred as the other deities welcomed him with slaps on the back and kisses on the cheeks. Invitations of all sorts were extended and a few of the whispered ones left Ranma blushing like there was no tomorrow. One by one the other deities faded from view, until only Mystra and three others lingered. The overwhelming presence of Lord Ao also retreated, leaving Ranma feeling strangely empty. It was one more curious sensation among a multitude of curious sensations.

The black skinned goddess sauntered over, eyeing Mystra and a white haired goddess hatefully. Ranma had been around enough attractive women in the last few years, not to mention being one himself from time to time, that he'd become somewhat desensitized to the female form. However, the black skinned goddess made Shampoo, Nabiki, and Miss Hinako look like the Old Ghoul. The way she moved made his whole body tingle in anticipation of hinted promise, and the roll and sway of her hips sent shivers up and down Ranma's spine.

He'd heard the saying about the deer and the headlights, but up until that moment it hadn't really made any sense. Now though, Ranma felt he knew just how the deer felt when faced with mortal danger. It was a deadlock as his fight or flight instincts worked overtime against his newly awakened libido.

As the Dark Goddess seemed to mold herself against Ranma's side, Ranma noted that her body was both warmer and more inviting than he expected. Her eyes were cold and distant though, which was enough of a turn off to keep Ranma from falling to his knees before the goddess.

"Welcome to the family, Ranma." She purred. Her fingers traced interesting little designs over his chest.

"Th…thanks." The young godling swallowed hard, trying hard to control the flood of ideas and images pouring through his mind involving the goddess pressed against him.

"Not ta be rude or nothin' but, can you…" He swallowed hard and gently gripped her wrists. "Can you please stop. I mean…we ain't even been properly introduced!"

Not that this had really been an issue between him and Mystra, but still! He wasn't going to be a pervert! The Dark Goddess laughed. It was a deep, velvety tone that promised pleasure on so many forbidden levels it was indecent. Ranma shivered again and began chanting the suppression mantra Guru Thammadi taught him when he was thirteen. It wasn't really working all that well though. Maybe the Soul of Ice? The Light in the Void? Gah! Something had to work!

Pops in a Speedo. Pops in a Speedo. Pops in a Speedo.

Wait. The goddess was talking again. Ranma focused in on the words, hoping that they would distract him from the sensations the deity's wandering hands were eliciting in him.

"…am the Night. I am the Dark Goddess. I am known to many as the Lady of Shadows and Loss – but you…you may call me Shar."

"Uh…yeah." Ranma squeaked and tugged on his pigtail nervously. "Nice ta meetcha, Shar."

"Perhaps I can tempt you to visit me – we've much to discuss now that you control my Shadow Weave."

Ranma grinned uneasily and nodded, trying to ignore the possessive look in the goddess' dark eyes.

"Sounds fun." He squeaked.

"Undoubtedly. I can guarantee that it will be a dream come true."

Ranma wasn't so sure about that, especially considering how hungry Shar sounded. He closed his eyes as she lightly trailed her fingers up Ranma's chest, throat, and chin seductively. Years of inhibited hormones and a seriously repressed libido continued to battle for dominance with Ranma's imposing sense of self-preservation. It was a much longer conflict than normal.

"Leave off, Shar." A cool, commanding voice cut through Ranma's pleasurable haze. "There are others who wish to offer welcome to young Ranma."

Shar glared hatefully at a very familiar white-haired woman. The woman's matronly smile did not waver under Shar's reproachful glower. The goddess of night looked back at Ranma and drew close, her lips barely brushing his ear. Her breath was warm against his neck as she wrapped a shapely leg around Ranma's thigh.

"A bit of advice, Love. Be mindful of those who welcome you with soft smiles and false promises." Shar slowly disengaged herself from his side, pressing herself closer before fully retreating. "Every god and goddess has their own agenda, and would seek to use you for their own personal gain."

"You chief among us, Shar." Mystra growled from behind Ranma.

"You wound me, Mystra!" Shar sneered.

"If only it were so."

Ranma fidgeted. This was starting to feel all too familiar.

"Perchance, the Mother of Magic is jealous?" The Dark Goddess started forward, wrapping her arms around Ranma possessively. Mystra's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Ranma felt a cold tingle build under his skin.

"Release him, Shar! He is not your toy!" Mystra demanded. The black skinned goddess grinned seductively at Ranma.

"Perhaps he would like to be?"

The martial artist turned god shook his head violently, causing Shar to frown.

"No? Then maybe I could be your toy…." Ranma shivered at the way the goddess started nuzzling his neck. "I can think of a number of games you could play with…."

Shar's voice was suddenly silenced and Ranma felt her arms go slack. He blinked as she was forced to step back by a long, very deadly looking blade pressing against her nose. It glowed with a silver light and seemed to hum coldly.

"It is clear that Ranma is not interested in your offer, dear Shar." Ranma followed the length of the blade back to its owner and was surprised to see a very serious Corellon Larethian staring down at Shar.

"Mind your business, Elf Lord!" Shar hissed.

"Ranma is my business, Lady of Loss." The father of elves cocked his head and smiled fiercely as he lowered the long sword from Shar's nose. "As the newest member of the Seldarine, his interests and well-being are my own. So, I would kindly suggest you follow lovely Selune's earlier suggestion and leave well enough alone."

"If he wishes me to stop, all Ranma has to do is ask. He doesn't need you or anyone else to fight his battles for him." Shar smiled coyly at Ranma and winked before turning back to the elf-god.

"That is true. Ranma can speak for himself." The Coronal of Arvandor turned to Ranma. "So, Ranma. What say you? Do you want to dance in the sheets with the Lady of Loss?"

"Uhm…well, that is…"

Damn it all! Why did this crap always happen to him anyway? He was sick of being put on the spot like this, and the fact that the black-skinned chick was like some unholy mix of Shampoo and Kodachi was creeping him out. He sighed and shook his head. He knew from experience that she wasn't going to be the type to quit just because he asked her to. It really didn't matter what he said in the end – she had the same possessive look in her eyes that all his fiancées had at one time or another. Screw it. He didn't need this crap right now. Best to just be up front and get the pain out of the way. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd take the hint right off?

"Look…Shar. I appreciate the offer and all, but now's not the best time."

"You are rejecting me?" Shar's eyes narrowed.

"Now, don't go puttin' words inta my mouth!" Ranma felt the goddess' anger building and winced. No matter how nice he tried to be about these things, everyone always went off the deep end. "You're pretty cute and if I wasn't dealin' with so much other crap right now…well, I just don't think it's gonna work out you know?"

Ranma's thought was cut off as Shar's eyes flared with a crimson light and her skin went completely black, blotting out the tiny stars.

"You refuse the gift I so freely offer?" Shar growled.

"Uhm…well, yeah…for now…I guess." Ranma scratched the top of his head. Jeeze! What was with this chick? Was she hard of hearing or something?

"So be it fool!" The goddess of loss narrowed her black eyes and flared with power. "Deal with your troubles, and while you do…you may deal with this as well!"

Ranma wasn't sure what she did, but he knew it hurt. There was an energy spike and then a tearing sensation within him. There was no time to scream as he saw himself literally split in twain. Under any other circumstance, he would jump for joy at the sight of his female half being separated from him; but there was something terribly wrong about how this was being done. He was losing a part of himself…an important part of himself.

"Let this loss be a lesson to you, Ranma Weavebender! Perhaps next time you shall not be so inclined to spurn the advances of Shar!"

He reached for his female half, desperately trying to hold himself together against the inevitable. But, for all his power, and all his skill, he wasn't quick enough. A portal of black lightning opened beneath both halves of him, and he felt the world explode with pain. His voice found purchase at last, and he cried out in agony as he watched the petite, pointy-eared, red head vanish before him.

He struggled and fought against the undeniable pull as long as he could, reaching out to Mystra and the blonde elf as they vainly tried to anchor him. As his fingers slipped from the hands of the goddess, he heard her calling to him, telling him that it would be all right – urging him to seek out his other half.

The portal closed, and then there was nothing but absolute darkness again.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Everlund

The arrival in Everlund along the Evermoor Way was shrouded in a steady downpour. Dreary as the weather was, the group was happy and upbeat due to the fact that they were over halfway to their destination. Civilization also meant warm beds and warm baths, which was also a big plus. They could already hear the bustling sounds of the Bell Market in the distance, and the pulse of the merchant city was already settling in Usagi's bones. Shandri and her family could only look out the windows in open wonder, while Feldrin yawned from her dappled gray mare, as she rode beside the coach.

They had no sooner made their way through the south eastern gate, when a brightly glowing, fiery sparrow zoomed into the carriage's window and alighted on Usagi's outstretched hand. She squawked and tried unsuccessfully to rid herself of the magical bird, before realizing that she wasn't getting burned. With a sigh and an embarrassed laugh, she looked at Ulin for direction. The Genasi's face had gone an interesting shade of green alabaster, which worried Usagi to no end.

"What do I do?" Usagi whispered,

She was afraid to move for fear of setting off some crazy trap spell like the ones Ulin had been telling her about for the last day and a half. When Ulin didn't answer, Shandri screwed up her courage and kicked the sorceress in the shin, much to her mother's dismay and outrage. The only thing keeping Matron Dunhill from unleashing hellfire on her daughter's backside was the flaming sparrow preening itself on her Lady's fingers. Ulin blinked and looked at Usagi's terrified face for a moment. She shook her head and tried to put a comforting smile on her face. It didn't do anything to settle anyone's nerves in the least.

"That would be from Queen Alustriel. State your name and official title, for the construct and it should play its message."

"Sh…should?" Usagi whimpered.

"Either that or it will explode and we all die a flaming death." Ulin deadpanned.

Shandri squeaked and her little sister started to cry. Usagi wanted to join her, but closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She wanted to erect a shield as Ulin had taught her, but didn't know if the close proximity of the spell would set off the magic. She looked at the other in the coach and called for Stedd to stop at the first available opportunity. Once the carriage had stopped, Usagi urged everyone out and asked Ulin to cast a very power shield around the coach to protect bystanders if this was something dire.

Shandri fought to stay in the coach with Usagi, but the Lady of Hemmerling pulled rank on her handmaid and ordered her to protect her mother and sister. Tears flowed down the girl's cheeks as she followed Usagi's command, leaving the young woman alone in the coach. Once she was certain that all of her orders had been followed, she took a deep breath and plunged ahead.

"I am Serenity, Lady of Hemmerling, known to some as the Silver Princess."

The fiery sparrow chirruped once, causing Usagi to nearly jump out of her skin. As it was she cried out and scrunched her eyes shut. When nothing untoward happened and all her body parts were still connected properly, she opened her eyes to see the sparrow finishing morphing into a very familiar looking woman.

"Mother?" Usagi whispered.

"Greetings to you, Serenity, Lady of Hemmerling, Silver Princess of the North. I greet you Sister, from the throne of Silverymoon, with warm tidings and a glad heart from the Silver Marches. Your coming was foretold to me, and my Court makes ready for your immanent arrival."

By this time, seeing that the threat was over, Ulin herded everyone back into the carriage while the pleasantries were being exchanged. She silenced everyone, in order to better hear the language of Alustriel's message.

"As you are hearing this, you are most certainly in, or near, the city of Everlund. I have taken the liberty of arranging accommodations for you and your retinue at Moongleam Tower, under the care and protection of Moonlord Eaerlraun Shadowlyn. Upon your arrival to the city, please send word ahead that he may make any final preparations for you and your company. He bears a letter and vital information for you. Please reply as soon as convenient and let us know of your intended arrival date. I am yours eternally. Alustriel."

The image of the beautiful woman bowed once before disappearing in a flash of flame. Usagi looked at Ulin with more than a little concern. The Genasi bit her lip and fairly ignored the stares everyone was giving her. Her normal confidence seemed to return abruptly and she seized the opportunity that the silence provided to work furiously. She dug into a satchel at her feet and pulled out some parchment and the travel desk she had used quite often in teaching Usagi to read and write. She scribbled a hasty note and secured it with rose-colored wax, pressing Usagi's seal in the spell-heated wax to make everything official. She stuffed the note into a lacquered scroll case and held up her hand to forestall any of the questions that were already bubbling forth from Usagi and Shandri.

"Viet!" The young man appeared at the coach's window.

"Here, milady."

"You are to go to Moongleam Tower and deliver this to the Moonlord Eaerlraun Shadowlyn himself. No one else may open it or touch it. Tell them it is magically sealed against intrusion if you have to. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lady Ulin." Viet bowed crisply as he took the scroll case in hand.

Usagi watched it disappear into his cloak and, just as quickly, the young man vanished into the misty rain at a gallop. Ulin fell back into her seat, damp and completely lost in thought. It took another jostle from Shandri to pull the woman back to reality.

"Ulin, what is going on?" Usagi demanded. "What has got you so worried?"

Ulin bit her lip again and bowed her head in thought. She absently began toying with her hair, but made no immediate move to answer Usagi's questions.

"Ulin." Usagi tried to make her voice sound firm.

"Please, my Lady. There is much to sort through here and I am doing my best to make sense of it. There were some troubling things in Alustriel's response. Things that concern me."

"Like what? Talk us through it."

Ulin sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"What is the first rule of Statecraft?"

"Nothing is ever as it seems." Usagi answered.

"Correct. Alustriel's message, like anything political, has more beneath the surface than it actually says. There are a hundred ways to interpret the words she used, but if we misinterpret their meaning…."

"Trouble?"

"With one of the Seven, you can be certain of it. Maybe not from Alustriel directly; the tone of her response wasn't what I would expect from her if she considered you a threat or an enemy."

"But if not from her, then who?" Shandri asked in a quiet voice.

"Everyone else, Child. Everyone else."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Usagi demanded. She already hated politics, and now that she was starting to see them from the inside out, that sentiment was only growing.

"It means, Dear Heart, that Alustriel might not want to hurt, defame, or kill you, but her enemies most likely will."

"This sucks!" Usagi pouted.

"Such is the politician's life." Ulin shrugged.

"This is insane. I never wanted to be a politician! All I want to do is go home!" Usagi tossed her head against the back of the padded bench seat and rubbed her face. "Okay. Give it to me straight. What does her response really mean?"

"I came in at the end of your titles, was there anything else said prior to that?"

Usagi shook her head.

"No. Just my name and the titles."

Ulin nodded.

"Good." She tapped her chin with the quill she had used to write the note to the Moonlord. "She used some very odd language that leads me to believe that a much larger game is being played here, and you are a very prominent piece on the board."

"How so?" Mrs. Dunhill asked.

"She called Usagi-chan 'Sister' – an intimate form of address reserved for equals. It is obvious that the events in Hemmerling and the mines have outpaced us. She greeted you from the 'Throne of Silverymoon' and with tidings from the 'heart of the Silver Marches.' Making the missive officially a political greeting."

Ulin took a moment to close her eyes and then began to scribble out something on her parchment.

"The next part was the clarion call of trouble. She made it known that someone had already told her of your coming. The question is who told her, and how did that person know of our intent?"

"Your family?" Usagi suggested.

"It's possible. Poor Hevig was certainly in a hurry to leave." Ulin grinned at Usagi, who could only blush and grumble at the memory of the Harpell whose bed she had woken in oh so long ago. "One of my relatives might have called ahead, but this was prior to the events at the mines and in Hemmerling. Something tells me that this goes beyond my family."

"Who else could it be?" Shandri asked.

"There are plenty of possibilities and therein lies the problem. You have the Harpers for one. They have just as many eyes and ears in the North as the Zhentarim. They have deep ties to Silverymoon as well. The issue at hand goes much deeper than who alerted Alustriel of our 'immanent' arrival. She's preparing her Court to receive you as she would a foreign queen. This, in and of itself, is going to make the people of Tradesburrow a bit nervous when it gets back to them."

"Why?" Usagi demanded. "I mean, I'm not going to do anything to them."

"You know that, and we know that, but they do not. With Alustriel's apparent backing, the lands of Hemmerling and the surrounding wilds may very well become your kingdom."

"Oh, this is just great! We need to send someone back to Tradesburrow. We need to tell them that I'm not interested in becoming their queen!"

"We'll go ahead and send someone back with a message. But you must be prepared for the idea that it might already be too late."

"Can this get any worse?" Usagi sighed and began to rub her temples.

"Of course it can." Ulin smiled mirthlessly. "Alustriel has also arranged for us to be placed under the protection of one of Everlund's most powerful defenders. This alone gives more credence that the Silver Marches are backing your non-existent bid for the area surrounding Hemmerling."

"It also means that we're in some sort of danger." Usagi pointed out. "Right?"

"Dear Heart, we've been in danger since the initial meeting with Mayor Thistlebuck and the late master Hearthman. With Kelemvor's defeat and the death of Olin Breambur, your notoriety is growing by leaps and bounds. Now you understand why I've been insisting that we train and study so hard. It's also why I didn't make a fuss when the Loras insisted on accompanying us. You are already gaining enemies in high and low places, based solely on rumors alone."

Shandri's sister clung to Mrs. Dunhill.

"I am sorry if this all seems frightening, but now you understand why I am so worried by Alustriel's message. The ramifications of this missive alone are staggering, and there is most certainly more to all of this than we currently know or comprehend."

"The letter this 'Moonlord' person has."

Ulin nodded.

"Think carefully though. That was not all that she said he had for you."

"Vital information. She said he had 'vital information' for me."

"I'm glad that you were listening." Ulin rubbed her temples and looked out into the rainy cobblestone streets of Everlund. Usagi pondered the woman's posture and while there was certainly enough to worry about, the Silver Princess knew that something else was bothering her mentor and friend.

"There's more to this, isn't there?"

"Why do you say that?" Ulin didn't look away from the rain.

"Because of the way you reacted to Alustriel's sparrow. You knew it was from her, but you were still afraid."

"A cautious cat lives to eat fish another day." Ulin shrugged.

"Did something happen between you and Alustriel?"

Ulin didn't answer right away.

"The Seven Sisters and I have not always seen eye to eye." The Genasi smiled softly. "Let us leave it at that."

Usagi was not going to let it go at that, especially since this might come back and bite her in the butt if she didn't prepare for it before hand. She giggled mentally. Listen to her? Usagi Tsukino, preparing and thinking ahead for once…who would have thought? If only her friends could see her now. She doubted that they would recognize the girl she had been in the woman she was rapidly becoming. She sighed and looked back to Ulin intently.

"Will you tell me about it?"

"Another day perhaps." Ulin began toying with her hair nervously.

"Before we get to Silverymoon at least?"

Ulin shifted in agitation and nodded curtly.

"Good enough." Usagi patted the jade-skinned woman's leg and smiled encouragingly. "So, where do we go from here, Moongleam Tower?"

Ulin shook her head.

"No. Lord Shadowlyn needs time and we need money."

"Money?" Usagi asked. "What for?"

Ulin looked at Usagi like she had grown a new head.

"You don't expect us to go to dinner, dressed as we are do you?"

All the girl's eyes lit up with glee.

"You mean…we get to go…shopping?" Usagi asked reverently.

"What else would I mean?"

Usagi and Shandri squealed with delight and bounced in their seats.

"Before we do, however, there is something I need to ask Mistress Dunhill."

Shandri's mother looked away from her daughter and upon seeing Ulin's stoic face, her own smile vanished.

"In light of the danger, Mistress Dunhill, I would be remiss in not offering you the opportunity to return to Hemmerling with young Dinah."

Usagi nodded her head emphatically

"Yes, Mrs. Dunhill. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you or Dinah were to get hurt."

"I thank you for your concerns, my Lady Serenity. Lady Ulin. But, where my Shandri goes, we'll go. We're all the family each other has, and I'd like to be close to my daughters." The finality in the woman's words left no room for argument.

"I understand your sentiments." Ulin looked at Dinah pointedly. "What about you Dinah? Are you going to go with us too?"

The little girl only grinned widely, showing off the wide gap in her smile.

"Well, then it is time to get some other things settled. As you are staying on, I am going to put you to work. Mistress Dunhill, you are now the Matron of Hands. You are responsible for all of Lady Serenity's personal needs: baths, food, clothing, dressing, etcetera and etcetera. You are granted the power to hire handmaidens and other help as needed, and you can expect that the servants of those we will be staying with will look to you for information regarding Lady Serenity's tastes and requirements. Any handmaids under your banner are your responsibility and not only reflect on you, but on your Lady as well. I will be helping you screen them, to ensure that we do not hire on any assassins, but those that are hired are under your authority."

Everyone swallowed nervously at the thought of murderers disguised as servants trying to kill Usagi.

"You will of course be paid a monthly stipend and have room, board, and clothing where ever we travel. It is a great deal of responsibility, but I am more than confident that you are qualified for the position. Are you willing to pledge your services to the noble house of Serenity?"

Silea Dunhill bent forward in the coach and took Usagi's hand and kissed it.

"I swear on the name of my late husband, and in the name of Tyr, that I will serve you faithfully, Lady Serenity, until you dismiss me or until I breathe my last."

Usagi could only look on in shock at the declaration.

"Do you accept this humble servant into your employ, Lady Serenity. Do you promise to uphold the terms stated and promise to protect this woman and her children as if they were your own?"

"I promise." Usagi nodded and Silea Dunhill smiled at her daughters.

"Now then. Shandri Dunhill. You have already given your pledge to our Lady, protecting her with your life and assuming the station of Senshi in her Court. I now name you her Lady-in-Waiting, and bid you to act as her personal shield at all times. Do you accept?"

Shandri mirrored her mother's earlier declaration and shared the tears in Usagi's eyes when the Silver Princess accepted her.

"Lastly, we come to you, Dinah Dunhill." The little girl's eyes were wide and animated as she scooted forward on her seat, waiting for Ulin to speak. "I name you my aide. Will you help me keep Lady Serenity awake during her lessons?"

Everyone chuckled as Dinah nodded.

"Will you make certain that Lady Serenity eats all her vegetables and gets enough sleep at night? Will you help me make sure that she gets to where she needs to be, and help me keep her House in order?" Ulin looked at her seriously. "This means that you will have to lead by example – eating your vegetables, bathing regularly, and getting enough sleep. After all, if we don't do it, how can we expect others to?"

Dinah looked scared for a moment but Usagi's hand on her knee washed the concern away.

"We will help each other, how does that sound?" Dinah nodded and repeated the words her mother and sister had spoken. Usagi gathered her into a warm hug and kissed her cheek. She was surprised that the gesture was returned with just as much intensity.

"We are settled then. We will tie up the other loose ends as time permits." Ulin thumped on the carriage's roof and called out to Stedd Greycastle to head for the Bell Market. It was time for shopping and pity any who stood between the women and that goal.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Highden

The time leading up to the Festival of Creation was fast dwindling. Keiichi, through the diligence of Sister Maerdith, had confirmed many of the suppositions concerning the Norns' gifts to the young man. He didn't need to sleep any longer, or eat as much or as frequently as others, and his wounds healed incredibly fast. He could read just about any language set in front of him, excepting the language of Mystra. He had been confused about that until speaking with Father Ellosin, who pointed out that the language of Magic was guarded by the Goddess of Mysteries herself, and could only be learned through her blessing and great personal study. Keiichi accepted the explanation and moved onto more important things. Namely, eating his carrots and other green veggies.

The carrots made some serious strides in making his blue coloring diminish, to which he was extremely grateful, even considering the large greenish-orange splotches that were replacing the azure hue. Sure he looked like a huge, polka-dotted rag doll, but it was better than looking like an overgrown Smurf. The greens were having a serious affect on his hair growth after the first full week of eating, forcing him to cut his rapidly regenerating, shoulder-length hair every three days just to keep it out of his eyes. After the fourth haircut, Keiichi had stopped bothering with it. Instead, he just pulled it back into a ponytail and went about his business. It eventually stopped, or at the very least slowed to a more natural growth pattern, which relieved Keiichi greatly.

In pondering the madness that was Urd one evening, Keiichi had come to the realization that the Norn of the Past wanted to ensure he ate healthy, if for no other reason than to placate Belldandy's worries. It made it easier to accept all the new strangeness about himself and the many setbacks that came because of the Norns' gifts. Their concern, however overwhelming, was comforting – which was something sorely needed as the days grew longer and his attention was invariably drawn back to the mountainous problem of his Ascension.

The thought of becoming a god, in word and deed, seemed so alien to him. In truth, the whole concept seemed downright blasphemous when he really thought about it. He was a mortal, and a fairly pathetic specimen at that. Urd, Belldandy, and Peorth…. Shoot! In light of recent events and revelations, even Skuld seemed so far above him in power and understanding that just entertaining the prospect of someday being their equal was laughable. He was a microscopic organism, when compared to the complexity and depth of their existence. It really put his wish, and subsequently Belldandy's acceptance and love for him, into perspective.

More often than not, the topic of his Ascension left him feeling empty and depressed. He'd stopped studying the new notes after the fifth day, mostly because the concepts presented were so far over his head that he had little hope of ever understanding them. So, in order to fight the mounting frustration, Keiichi threw himself into the creation of his "Multi-environmental Transforming Automated Transport" or "Metat" for short.

Working with his hands made him feel better, and he always seemed to have more energy than he knew what to do with. So, the strides he made in the first week after Skuld collected her book were phenomenal. He'd all but finished the design and construction of Meta's main drive and the frame for the exo-skeleton. Had it not been for the onset of mental fatigue and the sudden two-pronged assault from Sam and Sister Maerdith concerning his eating habits, he was sure that Meta would have been up and running by now.

The intervention of the women forced him to slow his pace more than a bit, but he couldn't fault them. He knew that he was so close to burn out that their intervention was actually welcome. It didn't hurt that Sam insisted Keiichi come for dinner every night either. Good food was always welcome, even if you didn't need to eat.

Keiichi looked over at Ruthart, who had become something of a minder and assistant for Keiichi. Sister Maerdith and Sam were both unable to watch over him every hour of the day, so Ruthart had been nominated for the job. Keiichi had to admit that the young gnome was doing a great job so far – he'd made himself all but indispensable. He watched over Keiichi like a hawk, anticipating his needs and keeping Keiichi's workshop well stocked and in good working order.

Keiichi looked over at the young gnome walking beside him and smiled. It was hard to find good friends, but apparently, Keiichi was unusually blessed. As they neared the Steelwater home, a feeling of dread washed over Keiichi. Thick black smoke rose over the rooftops, painting a nasty smear on the golden clouds dotting the evening sky. With a shared look of concern between him and Ruthart, Keiichi began running.

The ring of the fire brigade's bells and the charge of eminent tragedy hung in the air as the pair rounded the final corner and took in the furious inferno that was the Steelwater home. Water pumps and bucket lines were everywhere; some working on the house and workshop, others soaking the nearby houses and businesses. Keiichi could only stare in terrible wonder at the sight, unable to comprehend the devastation that had befallen his dear friends. Ruthart tugged on his sleeve urgently and Keiichi responded by running to a stout gnome that was issuing orders to the teams trying to contain the blaze.

"Are the steelwaters alright?" He shouted over the roar of the flames.

The heat and intensity of the blaze was already affecting him. The gnome nodded and pointed to a water wagon on the other side of the bucket line. Sam was sitting on the ground, covered in soot and ashes, weeping as she watched her home go up in flames. Seated next to her was Sister Maerdith, consoling her as best she could. Keiichi scanned the crowds, watching in wonder and amazement at the organized chaos of the firefighters. Their tools were just as loud as the growl of the flames, and the water being pumped out of them was ingenious. Keiichi's mind began breaking down the systems and improving upon them before he caught himself and began looking for Duncan again.

When he finally found the dwarf, he was holding the end of a high-pressured hose all by himself, trying to save what he could. Keiichi wasted no time in running to his friend's aid. He picked up the slack of the taut hose and helped secure it. Ruthart joined one of the bucket brigades and began tossing water on the flames. The battle wore on for the better part of two hours, until Father Ellosin finally arrived on the scene. The priest called upon the might of Oghma to create a concentrated pillar of spiraling wind that sucked the flames high into the air and distributed them among the clouds.

Keiichi marveled at the powerful display, as did many others, but most of the people present could do little but try and hold their balance as the winds tugged and pulled at them. The sudden lack of oxygen to fuel the fire, caused the blaze to gutter and die, but the fire marshal urged everyone to continue wetting down the area, so that the flames did not rekindle themselves. It was sometime before the inferno was finally put out, and during that time Keiichi just happened to catch a glimpse of Haroun standing on the edge of the crowds smiling in deep satisfaction. The manipulative little bastard was smug and more than pleased about the situation, which sent up all sorts of red flags in Keiichi's mind, but there was little he could do at the moment to confront the Gondar priest. Little fires continued to crop up here and there among the smoldering coals of Duncan's house, forcing Keiichi's attention back to the job at hand.

There would be time for retribution later. Right now, Duncan and Sam needed him.

The night came and went, leaving the fire brigade and the volunteers exhausted. The Steelwater home was a complete loss, leaving Duncan and his wife homeless – something that Keiichi intended to remedy. Ruthart was sent ahead to prepare a room in the workshop for the couple as soon as the markets opened, leaving Keiichi to succor his distraught friends. He strode over to where Duncan and Sam were huddled against a hose wagon and knelt before them.

"Ruthart is getting a room ready for you at my place." Duncan nodded blankly. "I'll send Sister Maerdith to pick up some clothing for you as well. Is there anything else you need right now?"

Duncan shook his head numbly. Keiichi motioned to Bertrold and Sister Maerdith to help the pair back to the workshop cavern, while he turned to have words with the fire marshal.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

A week had past since the fire, leaving a pall over the seaside cavern. Duncan had locked himself in his room and refused food or drink. Sam said he had begun a fast to regain favor in Gond's eyes, but Keiichi knew that the dwarf's faith had been seriously shaken.

He didn't know how or why, but he could feel it.

The sudden sense of empathy that he had for his friend began to manifest itself late in the week, as Keiichi began to miss meals too. By the tenth day, he had locked himself in the workshop just as Duncan had retreated to the solitude of his room. The state of things made everyone worry, but Keiichi's mind had but one focus.

Finishing his entry.

It wasn't that he wanted to win the competition. Well, that wasn't exactly true. He wanted to win, but more for Duncan's sake than his own. Which was why, after ten days of non-stop work, the Multi-environmental Transforming Automated Transport was complete…or at least as complete as Keiichi could get it. The body and engine were done, as well as the outer plating. The only finishing touch to come up with was the A.I., and that would take some serious programming to pull off.

He'd already made some strides in reading Skuld's notes on "Coding for Creation," but he hadn't the time to put a proper computer together. This was a conundrum, especially considering the fact that he only had one week to go before the Festival of Creation. He had installed manual controls in the METAT, but somehow he didn't think that would cut it for the competition. He'd seen a number of Gondsmen trudging around town behind their Techsmith masters, and while the METAT was far superior to these clockwork men, they had something that Keiichi's creation did not: a semblance of life.

Given more time, he was certain that he'd be able to work out the code and develop a fully integrated artificial intelligence; unfortunately there was no more time. He needed a solution and he needed one now.

"What to do? What to do?" He sighed. "Come on! Think Morisato!"

A loud, urgent, banging on the large double doors of the workshop interrupted Keiichi's thoughts. The feel of the rapping was panicked and Keiichi found himself leaping from his worktable in a rush. When he opened the door, Sam greeted him with tear stained cheeks and beside her was a familiar face that Keiichi didn't think he'd ever see again. He ignored Kerden Blowbutton in favor of comforting Duncan's wife.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"Oh, Keiichi! It's Duncan!" She sobbed. "He won't wake up!"

Keiichi brushed between her and Kerden and rushed through the caverns to his friend's room. He passed through the glass-roofed cavern that served as Sam's new gardening room and then through the freshwater grotto that supplied water to their home. By the time he reached Duncan's door, his concern grew. Ruthart was standing outside the door with his face in his hands and his shoulders shaking. Dread filled his heart as he passed the threshold and came upon a tearful Sister Maerdith chanting prayers to Oghma of a very still body. Without thinking he shoved Maerdith away and checked the dwarf for a pulse…and found none.

"How long has he been like this?" He demanded. Maerdith scowled at him and did not answer. Keiichi grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "HOW LONG?"

"Just a couple of minutes…" She whispered.

He wanted to feel sorry for his actions, but he didn't take the time. He tilted Duncan's head back to clear the airway and began CPR immediately. Breath. Pump the blood. Breath. Pump the blood. Breath. Pump the blood.

"BREATH! DAMN YOU!" Keiichi roared.

He slammed his fists down on Duncan's chest with a loud "thump" that startled everyone in the room. The dwarf gasped, drawing in a deep breath, and rolled to his side and began coughing. Keiichi supported his friend, cradling him against the hacking coughs that rocked his body.

"Ruthart." Keiichi motioned his shaken apprentice into the room. "Help me get him on the bed."

They lifted Duncan carefully and with Sam's help, slipped him under the covers. Everyone looked scared for Duncan and somewhat awed by Keiichi's action of bringing the dwarf back from the dead. Keiichi feigned not to notice the attention directed his way by Ruthart and Kerden, focusing instead on Sam and Maerdith.

"He's going to be sore and hungry. We need to watch him and make sure that he gets water. Call me if his situation changes."

Maerdith nodded.

"Me situation's already changed." Duncan's voice sounded like tumbling gravel, but it was still one of the sweetest things that Keiichi had heard. He smiled at the stoic dwarf and settled on the end of the bed.

"Are you through with all this drama? Some of us have work to do."

Duncan laughed and ended up slipping back into another coughing fit. By the time it had run its course, Sam was already pushing a wooden mug of water to his lips. He sipped slowly and nodded when he had his fill. The tension in the air relaxed considerably and after a few happy pats on the shoulder, Sister Maerdith and Ruthart left. Keiichi convinced Sam to go cook something up for her husband, leaving Keiichi and Duncan to talk. Kerden, unbeknownst to the pair, sat just inside the door wringing his hands and biting the end of his curly yellow beard.

"So when are you going to join me in the shop?"

"I doubt I'll ever set foot in a shop again." Duncan sighed and shook his head. "Gond has forsaken me."

"Nonsense!" Keiichi protested. "That can't be true."

"It is." Duncan contested. "I've been prayin' since the day the challenge was set. I've made every sacrifice, and performed all the rituals of inspiration known to the Gondar. In the end the answer is always the same: silence."

"Why not use the Iron Horse? With a little polish and a new cushion for the seat, it'll be good as new."

Duncan shook his head.

"What about your Gondsman? We were able to salvage it from the fire."

The dwarf shook his head again.

"It needs to be somethin' new and unique. Somethin' that Mostana ain't seen yet and that ain't been tainted by fire."

"Why? That doesn't make sense."

"To prove that I still have Gond's favor, Lad. Somethin' that I most certainly find meself lacking these days."

"I can't believe that Gond would have abandoned you." Keiichi ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. "Besides, you've already submitted your entry designs. Won't deviating from the plans count against you?"

Duncan shrugged and allowed the silence to thicken around them. His voice was laced with emotion when he spoke again.

"Maybe Mostana was right. By getting' yer help, instead of going to me knees, I offended me god."

Keiichi felt horrible at the thought that he'd hurt his friend in such a way, but Duncan kicked him in the hip with his heel.

"Don't ye be assumin' nothin' Keiichi Morisato. The sin's me own and there's none to blame for me predicament but meself."

"That is not entirely true, Builder Steelwater."

Keiichi and Duncan looked up at Kerden Blowbutton in surprise and disapproval.

"What're ye on about, Artificer!" Duncan growled. Another coughing fit came over him as Kerden stepped closer to the bed. When Duncan's fit was over, the gnome sighed and pulled up a chair by the bedside.

"I am an Artificer no more, Builder Steelwater." Kerden hung his head. "By my own actions have I forsaken the Church and been claimed by another."

"I don't understand." Duncan confessed, urging the gnome to continue. Kerden looked at Keiichi with evident shame before speaking.

"I attempted to steal from good Master Keiichi, and in so doing I was punished and claimed by one of his goddesses until restitution has been made."

"What would possess ye to do something so foolish?" Duncan hissed.

"Haroun Mostana came to me with promises of wealth and glory and, in my greed, I followed him in the hopes of either winning over Master Keiichi or taking his secrets for our own."

"Thief!" Duncan growled with disgust. "And ye call me heretic!"

"I have already been to High Builder Maeverly with my crime, and my name has been stricken from the records of the Church forever." He said sadly. "But I did not come to speak about me, I came to give you a warning."

"A warning?" Keiichi asked.

"Yes. When Artificer Mostana left you that day, Master Keiichi, he was incensed. Your loyalty towards Builder Steelwater drove his anger to new heights. He vowed to win the competition at any cost, to punish you and Builder Steelwater, going so far as cursing Master Duncan's altar, confounding his prayers, and…and setting fire to his workshop."

Keiichi was glad that Duncan was still weak from his ordeal and not eating. As it was, the young man had to almost tackle the dwarf in order to keep him from throttling the frightened gnome.

"Ye knew! Ye knew, ye bastard son of an orc, and ye did nothing to stop him!"

"Duncan calm down!" Keiichi struggled with the dwarf, but had little success in soothing his ire. "Hear him out! He has to have a reason!"

Kerden, for his part, did his best to stay in his seat, although he was visibly shaking at the murderous glare Duncan was throwing him. By the time the dwarf finally exhausted himself Keiichi was spent.

"Tell me true. Did ye know, afore hand, or did yer knowledge come later?"

"Afore hand, Builder." Duncan began to growl. "But I did not sit idle!"

He lifted his tunic slowly, revealing a number of nasty bruises along his ribs and arms.

"I tried to stop Mostana's hired hands from setting the blaze, but I was not enough to overpower them."

This seemed to appease Duncan somewhat, but he was still leery of Kerden.

"Did ye report Mostana to Maeverly?"

"I did." Kerden nodded. "A Silent Inquisition has been called, but I doubt they will find anything steel clad before the Festival of Creation. My testimony alone will not suffice, as you well know. A minimum of three witnesses is required to implicate a clergy of Rank."

"Aye. It will be all but impossible for that oily bastard to be implicated. He's too damn cunning to leave us any bread crumbs."

Kerden nodded his agreement, but said nothing more.

"I guess we can expect to be next then?" Keiichi asked.

"I am assuming so." The gnome admitted. "That is partially why I came."

"Partially?" Duncan asked.

"Yes. I was hoping to find sanctuary here with you." He looked pleadingly at Keiichi, and all but got on his knees to beg.

"How can we trust ye?" Duncan growled. In response to his question a fiery rune blazed at the center of the gnome's forehead. "By the Wonder Bringer! What magic is this?"

"The mark of Skuld." Keiichi grinned.

"I am Hers, now and forever, Master Keiichi. And She has commanded me to watch over and protect you."

Although the admonition made him feel uncomfortable, Keiichi nodded.

"If Skuld sent you, then I don't have a problem with you staying."

"Are ye sure that's wise, Lad?" Duncan didn't bother whispering. "What if it's a trap?"

Keiichi smiled.

"Master Blowbutton has seen Skuld's divinity, Duncan. If he's playing us, then I feel sorry for him. Skuld doesn't like it when people take advantage of her."

Duncan sized Kerden up through narrowed eyes, looking for any deception.

"Fine. I'll abide by yer trust in the goddess. But mark me Blowbutton! Step outta line just once, and ye'll be kissin' me biggest wrench!"

Kerden swallowed hard and nodded.

"I understand completely, Builder Steelwater."

"Good." The dwarf crossed his arms and huffed.

Sam made her appearance then, carrying a tray of food fit for three dwarves. Keiichi took that as a sign for them to go and motioned for Kerden to follow him. He closed the door behind them and the pair walked through the grotto and the greenhouse cavern. Keiichi led the gnome to the kitchen where Ruthart and Sister Maerdith sat drinking tea.

"…brought him back from the dead! Surely that has to mean something!" Ruthart's quiet voice was urgent and defensive, and for some reason it made Keiichi unsettled to hear him speak. Maerdith, facing the door as she was, saw the pair enter and chose not to respond to the young gnome's words.

"How is he?" She asked.

"Weak and grouchy." Keiichi smiled.

"On the road to recovery then." Maerdith grinned.

Keiichi nodded and motioned for Kerden to sit in one of the empty seats as he collected two more teacups. He settled himself opposite the gnome and to the right of Maerdith, allowing Ruthart to pour for them.

"Kerden has some news to share with you." The gnome looked pained at Keiichi's veiled command, but nodded his acceptance. "Once he's done explaining things, could you set him up with a bed for the night Ruthart?"

"Yes, Master Keiichi." The reverence in the young gnome's voice grated on Keiichi's nerves.

"We'll need to see about opening up a few new caverns after the Festival's over too." He sipped the sweet Andilmyne tea that Maerdith favored as he pondered his next course of action. "After you've gotten Master Blowbutton settled I want you to see about cleaning up the Iron Horse. Take note of any thing that needs to be replaced or restored, alright?"

"Yes, Master Keiichi."

"As it stands, Duncan is going to need all the help we can give him during the coming week. With that in mind, Kerden, would you be willing to lend a hand in putting together whatever creation Duncan comes up with in the next few days?"

"It is the least I can do for you and Builder Steelwater, Master Keiichi."

"Good." Keiichi turned to Maerdith. "Could you, by chance, invite Bertrold over for breakfast tomorrow? I have a feeling that he should be made aware of some things too."

"Of course." Maerdith nodded.

"Thank you." Keiichi sipped his tea, mind racing.

The oddity of being so assertive wasn't lost on him. It seemed so out of character for him to be this demanding. But, in light of their current situation, someone needed to step up and get things rolling for Duncan. There was no way that he was going to allow Haroun Mostana to get away with everything he'd done. They were going to win this stupid challenge honorably and honestly, without stooping to his level.

"I've got to figure out a way over the last hurdle of my entry, so I'll leave you to it Kerden." He turned to Ruthart and Maerdith. "I just want you to know, in spite of what Master Blowbutton has to say, I trust him completely. I hope that you can extend him the same courtesy."

The reactions of the three were mixed, but Keiichi didn't bother cataloguing them. He had too much to do and not enough time to do it. As he was leaving the kitchen though, a thought occurred to him.

"When Sam gets a moment, please have her come to my shop, would you?"

The trio nodded. Keiichi made his way back to his workshop and closed the doors behind him. He stared at his mammoth creation on the shop's large worktable for a time before moving over to the tall stool that he had tipped over in his haste to leave the room. He righted it and sat down, propping his elbows on the counter top of the smaller worktable where he did all of his detailed work. His mind began to sort through everything he had gleaned from Skuld's notes, trying to piece together a solution to the problem of the METAT's artificial intelligence.

Each and every elucidation he came across was too complex, too time consuming, or lacked the proper materials to pull it off. He needed a computer but, even with the gifts Belldandy and her sisters had given him, there was just not enough time to pull it together. The more he thought and pondered, the angrier and more frustrated he became. This irritation quickly rose to become an ill temper, until at last Keiichi slammed his fist onto the counter top. The force of the blow caused a number of items to jump and topple, spilling the contents of jars and small boxes all over the workbench. This angered him even more, causing him to slam his fist down on the tabletop again.

A sharp pain caused him to hiss and immediately clutch his hand. The feel of warm blood trickled through his fingers alerting him to the deep cut he had inflicted upon himself. He sorted through the contents of the workbench and the workbench's drawers, looking for a rag. When he came upon a small cloth covered bundle, he began to unwrap it straight away. Blood had already soaked through a large portion of the linen by the time he'd exposed the bundle's contents.

He was surprised to see the small pearlescent egg Skuld had given him, nearly coated in his blood. The small artifact had completely slipped his mind. He tried his best to clean the egg, but only managed to spread the blood around more. He sighed at the thought of having to wash it off. It was just one more thing to accomplish. He started for the large double doors, still lost in his thoughts, when the egg began absorb the blood and glow softly. As he was passing the METAT's head, Keiichi was startled out of his reverie by Sam's distraught voice.

"Keiichi! Your hands!"

He squawked and squeezed the glowing egg in his still bloody hands. The slippery egg shot out of his grasp like a bar of wet soap, causing Keiichi to dance as he juggled the fragile artifact back and forth. He spun and twirled in an agile ballet of panic, almost catching the egg several times. He crowed in triumph as his hand once again closed on the glowing ovoid, only to trip over his own tangled feet at the last critical second. Time slowed as the egg once again sailed free of his grasp. Up and up it rose, tumbling end over end in a doomed arc that ended at the center of the METAT's forehead. Keiichi watched in horror as the egg shattered into a million tiny pieces of light that floated and drifted on an unseen breeze.

Keiichi could only watch in great disappointment as the minuscule shards slowly settled on the surface and inside of the METAT's head and upper torso. He hung his head and breathed a deep and gloomy sigh. As he pushed himself to his feet, Sam gasped. He looked at her with concern, but she just pointed back to the METAT with a shaky finger. He followed her gaze and took a step back as his creation began to glow.

He could feel the Seraphic Engine come online and from the way Sam was rubbing her arms, she felt it too. As the secondary systems began to charge, Keiichi noted that one of the METAT's hands began to twitch. Small debris began to lift from the tables and floor throughout the workshop and Keiichi could feel his hair standing on end as a very strong electromagnetic field rose in the room. Excitement and concern began to run through him and he motioned Sam to move back towards the door. He'd seen "Robot Carnival" enough times to know that one didn't stand directly in front of a creation that was waking up for the first time. He had no intention of being crushed by his own hard work before he'd had the chance to pay Mostana back for the grief and pain he'd caused.

No that wouldn't do at all.

The METAT sat up slowly and swung its legs off the table with an agility that both surprised and pleased Keiichi. He watched as the huge, humanoid robot lifted its hands and slowly examined them, opening and closing its fingers in a way that seemed very…well, _human_ for lack of a better term. Heated air vented from a number of valves at the neck and beneath the "rib cage," ruffling Keiichi's clothing as he drew closer to his creation. The movement drew the METAT's attention, making Keiichi pause in his slow advance.

**_PHSSSSSH!_**

The sound of more heated air venting caused Sam to cry out in alarm. The robot slowly shifted its gaze to the dwarf woman, eliciting another whimper from Duncan's wife. The noise generated by the activation brought the trio from the kitchen, causing the METAT's head to swivel away from Sam and move to the door. Maerdith screamed and backed out of the room as Ruthart and Kerden moved forward into her place. Both looked upon Keiichi's marvel with awe and wonder.

"It's alright." The young man spoke softly, drawing the robot's attention back to him.

**_PHSSSSSH!_**

"_Aaaalllriiiiight_."

There was an echoing, digital quality to the METAT's voice that made Keiichi grin. He wanted to jump and dance, but the image of the little mad scientist getting squished in "Robot Carnival" kept his feet firmly planted on the ground. Instead, he satisfied his excitement by laying his hand on the leg of the robot. He smiled up at the highly polished, featureless faceplate and sighed.

"I name you, Kazukiichiro…."

**_PHSSSSSH!_**

"_Kaaaahhhzzzuuuukiiii…_."

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

"Yes. My first, shining son."

Keiichi looked up at his fifteen foot, metallic child and couldn't help but thank Skuld. What an incredibly miraculous gift! This was better than A.I. – it was nothing short of magic! He looked back at his friends and beamed with joy. He couldn't wait until Duncan was up and about…he was going to freak!

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

"_Kaahhzuuukiii…_."

Keiichi laughed brightly.

_Top that Mostana!_

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Phaele Aligaurde, High Dweomerkeeper to the Temple of Stars, felt at a loss before the altar. The priestess had spent her days locked away from the local populace of Daerlun and the rest of Sembia, praying and meditating on the mystery of the new god. Her prayers to Ranma had yet to be answered beyond a number of troubling and confusing dreams that left her an emotional wreck afterwards. She couldn't understand the symbolism of the pit or her increasing fear of all things feline. After experiencing three nights of constant terror from the indistinct images and sickening sounds of suffering cats, Phaele was steadily growing more and more frustrated.

Maybe her god was trying to impart his will to her…or maybe teach her his doctrine through the dreams. She felt that the second was probably the safer interpretation, but the experience was so personal that it left her second-guessing herself. She wasn't the only one to have them, and a number of sorcerers and half-elves in the Temple had experienced the same dreams she had. The dreams were just as contrary to the others as they were to her.

On one hand they had the pit and the cats, and on the other they had the dreams of fighting. Most of the time the fights were unarmed and contrary to her lack of experience, she felt supremely confident. The constant rush of fighting battles and the subtle joy of training herself in a new technique left her feeling powerful and satisfied that there was nothing she couldn't do.

Perhaps the dreams were a premonition of the future. If so, was he warning her about a trap? Would she someday fall into a pit of feral cats? No, that didn't match with the emotions she'd felt. She'd felt small and helpless. Maybe it was the current status of Ranma's church? It was small and surrounded by feral dangers? It was a sketchy interpretation, but one that made a lot of sense – especially when taking into account the not so subtle hostilities that the dreamers were being confronted with.

That feeling had allowed her and the other dreamers within the Temple of Stars to weather the criticism of their peers. They had come to a consensus of recording the dreams and an unofficial sect of Ranma was forming. The followers of Azuth and some of the more traditional clergy of Mystra were demonstrating an increasing amount of…irritation…towards the fledgling faith. The friction was starting to really take its toll on the Temple of Stars. Her father had gone a long way to smooth things over with the body of Mysta's followers here in the Temple of Stars, but the Keeper of Mysteries could only do so much. If something didn't happen soon to placate the concerns of the other faiths, there was no doubt that things would escalate to open conflict.

This was why the High Dweomerkeeper found herself kneeling in the holy of holies praying for deeper understanding of the dreams. As she had been the one that received the personal visitation from the god, everyone was looking to her as his official voice.

Phaele sighed and refocused her thoughts on understanding these many visions. If Phaele were to embrace the idea that the visions were a metaphor for the current status of the church, then all the battle and training dreams were a warning for the followers of Ranma to prepare. It didn't really explain the erotic dream she'd had last night about the woman, who could have only been a representation of Mystra; but that was something that could be pondered later.

Yes. That felt right. She had never backed down from the many challenges and various enemies in her dreams, and she had never stopped preparing herself for the next battle. For all their symbolism, that seemed to be the core message. Life would always bring conflict but, through constant training and an undying will to win the struggle, there was no challenge that could not be overcome. Fighting unarmed and as both, male and female could be seen as a universal need to rely on one's self and to constantly adapt to new situations. Some of the other dreamers were interpreting that last concept literally.

A number of sorcerers were already developing classes in unarmed fighting based off of their dreams, while another small group was researching spells and artifacts that would allow for the gender switch. They had also started crafting new garments based off the clothes pictured in the visions. Others had pretty much come to the conclusion that all cats are evil and therefore needed to be destroyed. This wasn't going over too well with many of the wizards and sorcerers with cat familiars. Phaele wasn't sure how to feel about the gender swapping, and she was indifferent towards the cats, but the unarmed combat and the soft silks were something that she was really starting to enjoy. Her father had even sanctioned the idea by making the classes mandatory for the senior clergy of Mystra, if for no other reason than to keep the denizens of the Temple healthy and fit.

With the overall mystery of the dreams somewhat resolved, Phaele turned her thoughts to the next problem: executing her god's will.

"Oh, Lord Ranma! Please hear the pleas of thy servant! Teach me what I need to know to fulfill thy will."

Of all the things that Phaele Aligaurde expected, a portal opening above the altar was not it. Nor was the sound of a screaming female voice or the body that followed it. The High Dweomerkeeper of Mystra had no time to move as the petite, yet busty young woman shot from the magical tear at great speeds and bounced off the altar, to crash into her. Stunned and winded, Phaele could do little but lay where she was and listen to the heartbroken sobs of the red haired elf girl pressed against her chest.

It took time to maneuver her body into a more comfortable position, and even more time to sort out the mumbled whispers that were hidden behind the girl's tears. Her face was well hidden behind the girl's long, beautiful, red hair, but the priestess could see something glowing on the petite figure's forehead. By the time Phaele had the girl repositioned in her lap for a better look, the girl's words had become a mantra.

"He's gone! She took him away!"

"Who is gone child?" Phaele began rubbing small circles up and down the girl's back. The action caused the tears to stop abruptly. The girl lifted her head for the first time and pulled her hair away from her face, to look the Dweomerkeeper in the eye. The very familiar blue eyes seemed to swallow her, but it was the glowing symbol on the girl's forehead that made Phaele's breath catch in her throat. It was only half of the sigil she'd come to meditate on daily: a white seed or tear drop shape with an indigo half circle along the inner curve of the right edge. She didn't understand why the sigil was broken, but the more the red haired elf girl babbled, the clearer the picture became. It was then that she remembered whom she was holding. With a great scrambling lurch, she moved away from the figure and immediately began to prostrate herself in a low bow.

"Lord…er…Lady Ranma! I am thy servant!" Her eyes never left the floor and her forehead was pressed to the floor, but Ranma refused to let her stay that way for long. A pair of soft, delicate hands grabbed Phaele's face in her hands. The intensity of those stormy eyes made the priestess feel so terribly small.

"She broke me Phaele. Shar took him away from me and I want him back!"

"Who did she take?" The Dweomerkeeper whispered weakly.

"My male half!" The edge of panic in the red head's voice was terribly unnerving. "Oh, gods, she broke me! What am I going to do? I feel so empty!"

Phaele did the only thing she could think of and drew the busty elf girl into a tight hug and comforted her the best she could. What else could she do for the distraught avatar of her god? The dreams that had plagued her sleep took on a whole new meaning now. The pit, the battles, the training…. Her god had been battling other gods, which meant that Shar had dealt Ranma a terrible blow and somehow split his divinity. Heaven was at war, and there was no doubt that the war was now spilling over into the mortal realm.

Was this to be another Time of Troubles or Faerun? Mystra guard and protect! Phaele hoped not!

"What am I going to do?" Ranma's wail was so heart wrenching, that the priestess seized the first comforting thought that came to her and ran with it.

"Find him." Phaele whispered fervently. "We will find him. Together."

"You'll help me?" The young elf maid seemed totally surprised at the offer.

Phaele nodded. Was this some sort of test of her fledgling faith? If it was, then Phaele was fully intent on passing. What else could she do? Ranma had chosen her out of all the worthies in the Temple of Stars. That honor was not something to ignore or set aside. The red haired girl smiled brightly and giggled as she hugged the Dweomerkeeper affectionately.

"Thank you, Phaele. It's nice to know I have a friend right now."

The sorceress felt tears well in her eyes. She passed the test! Her god…er, goddess, had not only come to her, but she named her friend! A feeling of such perfect fulfillment filled the priestess as she returned the hug. She had found her place in life, and it was in the service of Ranma. She would still honor Mystra, but Ranma would now be the focus of her devotion. With one last squeeze, the avatar pulled away and grinned excitedly.

"Come on Phaele! We've got work to do! We got to find my male half and put me back together!"

The petite red head jumped from Phaele's lap and pulled the sorceress to her feet. The sudden shift in emotions was staggering, but Phaele did her best to roll with the avatar's sudden explosion of girlish enthusiasm.

"What then?" Phaele dared ask. The enthusiasm seemed to bleed from Ranma's face as she looked towards the altar. Her voice was hot and filled with a passionate assurance that made her words seem less a stated goal, and more a foregone conclusion.

"We're going to make Shar wish she had never been conceived!"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Fendrellinor, The Pools of Sorrow

Elminster was familiar with many forms of magic. He knew the subtleties of wizardry and the power of sorcery. He had tasted godly magic and fallen prey to wild magic, yet in all his days, he had never know magic quite like this. It was the magic of chaos and the power of chance magnified to the obscene.

He had fallen and, in a vain attempt to deny the inevitable, he grabbed handfuls of the moist loam that decorated the sides of the pool he was falling towards. His futile hope was to avoid being submerged in the water. Sadly, the springs wouldn't be denied.

The loam tore free, showering the pool with a spray of mud, dirt, and roots. Elminster cried out in denial and terror, even as his eyes tracked the flight of the sparkling necklace he had freed from the earth. His arms swept back, looking for purchase, but the pool seemed to grow to become a lake. His senses burned in the presence of the excessive magic he was caught in.

He felt the hand clutching the necklace hit the water first, and the energies saturating the spring exploded. He reflexively took a deep breath and held it, finally accepting the inevitable and praying that the change wouldn't be something too unnatural. Maybe he could be a woman again…that was fairly safe…right? Assuming he didn't drown here to make a new pool.

Now that would…how did the phrase go again? Ah, yes!

Now that would really suck!

Oddly enough, he felt himself submerge, but didn't feel the wet sensation associated with a dunking. If anything, he felt like his body was suddenly super-charged with static electricity…somewhat like the feeling he had when casting a chain lighting spell. The sensations intensified markedly, and he found himself cataloguing the experience in that very clinically annoying way that he'd come by during one of his many apprenticeships.

By the time he'd finally gotten around to opening his eyes, the wet feeling arrived. Unfortunately, it was one of the most uncomfortable wet feelings he'd ever had and it gave the archmage ample incentive to leave the pool. His feet found purchase on the muddy bottom of the spring and with a great push, Elminster shot out of the pool.

The fact that his leap topped some thirty feet was noted. The sight of another pool rapidly getting closer made Elminster's foggy mind scream with an icy panic that bordered on hysteria. The mage offered up a quick prayer to Mystra, begging her forgiveness for whatever slight he'd done her and asked that this watery grave would send him speedily to her side.

The prayer, such as it was, wasn't answered by the Lady of Mysteries, but by an auburn headed blur that impacted the Old Mage in the ribs hard enough to bruise. The wizard's savior rolled with the tumble, and somehow ended up sitting on Elminster's stomach. A quick, but by no means complete inventory was made.

Two arms. Check.

A head and face. Check

Two legs. Check.

Breasts…. No!

Elminster almost jumped up to dance with glee! He wasn't a woman! He was still a man! He was still…wait a minute. El let his hand drift down to inspect his lower anatomy and winced.

Damn it all! He was a woman! A woman without breasts!

"Damn ye Ranma! Ye Rat Bastard!" El hissed. "Ye've turned me into another Lina Inverse!"

The wizard opened his eyes stoically, contemplating the price in pulling off a Dragon Slave…with Ranma at ground zero. Sure Mystra wouldn't be happy with him bargaining with a Mazoku, but he was sure that he'd find a way to earn her forgiveness. It might take a millennium, but it would be worth it right. Upon seeing the grinning and purring form of an auburn…furred…little girl sitting on his…grrr…_her_…stomach, Elminster couldn't help but think that the Dragon Slave just wasn't going to cut it. The fact that she was a six year old, female version of Ranma – albeit one with a swishing cat tail – was not lost on the addled wits of one of the world's most powerful magic users.

Giga Slave. All the way.

"Oh, nine bloody Hells!"

Upon seeing the new body Elminster was now sporting, the Old Mage knew that even the Giga Slave wasn't enough punishment. El was going to have to come up with a whole new level of destruction and pain, just for the pig-tailed freak! It had been a long time since he had done any spell crafting, but for this…

Just look at him! His beard…was gone! Little Mister was gone too! Alrassa was going to be so disappointed! All because he'd been turned into a…a….

"_I'm a magical cat-girl!_" Elminster wailed.

And he was, complete with a trendy little pink costume with lots and lots of petticoats, copious amounts of hearts, and completely inappropriate amounts of fake jewelry to match. Valor the winged cat landed on El's chest and calmly smirked. Yes, smirked! Of all the indignities…

Thus it was that, Elminster of Shadowdale wept…well, like the mewling little magical cat-girl he was. Zuieez, the Steward of the Pools, scooped the pair of cat-girls and the slightly cramped Tressym into a warm cuddle, and somehow produced a pair of rather large, skewered, emerald trout from thin air. The auburn haired Ranma tore into the treat immediately, but El did his…_her_…best to ignore the craving so that she could keep crying. The little magical cat-girl lasted all of thirty seconds before the yummy smell of fish reminded her that she missed lunch.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Everlund

Moongleam Tower was a formidable fortress, built by a master dwarf engineer named Hobbin Axewhetter. The black stone, which the tower was built from, was unknown on the surface – having been quarried in the Underdark and brought to Everlund via a secret trade route. The fortress sat on one of Everlund's highest knolls and was made up of four, very tall and narrow towers that were joined by a thick circular wall that surrounded a central courtyard. It was made to be Everlund's last line of defense, in the event that the walls were breached, and had stood for over two hundred years against orc armies and dragon raids alike.

It was a rather impressive sight to see, looming over the houses and shops of Everlund. The golden light of the setting sun caused the stone of the tower to glisten in the remnants of the day's rain. Likewise, the light streaming through breaking cloud cover made the fortress darker than midnight and seemed terribly forbidding to Usagi as the carriage drew closer and closer to their destination.

"Creepy." She shivered in her new navy blue gown.

Ulin had given the ladies, and men alike, a make over that would have anyone back home drooling with envy. The clothes were a bit plain, navy trousers and white shirts for the men and white dresses with navy vests and trim – all without Usagi's new heraldry, which was to be embroidered during the rest of their stay. She had not asked how much had been spent on the clothes, but judging from the grimace on Ulin's face it had been a lot. Usagi's wardrobe accounted for the greatest dent in their funds, having gotten five new dresses (under great duress). The nine separate dressmakers they visited were ecstatic with the business and free flowing gold, even if the time frame they had to work with was limited.

The new weapons for the men had cost quite a bit too but, in light of everything that was hanging over their heads, Usagi wasn't about to scrimp if it meant the difference between life and death of her boys. She sighed and looked at the jewelry that that had planned to sell. They had drained three of Hearthman's accounts dry, with the aid of a mind-numbing stack of documents that Ulin had produced on request. How she came by them, Usagi didn't know, but in the end they had gotten what they needed and still had a bit to spare according to Ulin. How much, Usagi didn't care to know.

Now they were here, at Moongleam Tower, about to have dinner with this Moonlord fellow and learn more about the significance of Alustriel's earlier communication. Passing through the fortress' main gate felt like being swallowed by some great monster. The Silver Princess hated the feel of it. In contrast to the exterior, the interior of the tower felt a little bit warmer. It was still stark by anyone's judgment, but the guardsmen standing at attention along their path and the other human elements made a great deal of difference in breathing life into the tower. The coach began to turn in a wide circle, and Usagi caught a glimpse of the man she supposed was their host.

Eaerlraun Shadowlyn was a willowy man, dressed in a tunic of brown velvet that offset his blonde hair and tanned complexion nicely. His legs were long and powerful, as evidenced by the delicious way the dark leather breeches played off his muscles. He wore a long sword at his hip and a dagger tucked in one boot. He moved with an economy of motion that she had seen in a lion once. It was deceptively lazy, but graceful and powerful nonetheless. Usagi caught Feldrin eyeing the man up and down appreciatively and grinned mischievously. If nothing else, Usagi was happy to have found something to tease the ranger about.

"Greetings to you, Lady Serenity. I am Eaerlraun Shadowlyn, Lord of Moongleam Tower, and in the name of the Elders of Everlund and her majesty High Lady Alustriel, I bid you welcome to Everlund." Shadowlyn bowed deeply to her as Heb helped her from the carriage.

"Thank you, Lord Shadowlyn, for opening your home to us." Like her encounter with Raelin Thistlebuck, Ulin had harrowed Usagi all afternoon on how to greet their host and what needed to be said. "Please accept this token of our gratitude."

Taeghen Amalith, a man with obvious elven heritage in his past, stepped forward with the gift that Ulin and Feldrin had chosen for the occasion. The small lacquered box had been polished to almost a mirror finish, and the Moonlord accepted it with grace and a warm smile.

"May I?" He asked. Usagi nodded her head, somewhat worried. She hoped he liked it. That in and of itself brought her mind to what she was going to give Alustriel when they reached Silverymoon. Her worries were tabled for a moment as her host opened the box.

Eaerlraun Shadowlyn was a renowned ranger of no mean skill, and the hunting knife they found in one of the smithies was of great quality. Decorated with a moon motif, it seemed a fitting gift for the Lord of Moongleam Tower. Under Ulin's direction, Usagi had enchanted the blade to emit a beautiful silver glow that would not fade at the mention of her name. It had taken her a number of tries, but the simple enchantment took and Usagi had beamed with pride at the accomplishment.

The Lady of Hemmerling watched her host carefully lift the blade from its box, testing its weight and smiling. Now came the fun part.

"Lady Serenity…"

Eaerlraun almost jumped from his skin as a glow flared to life around the blade of the hunting knife. The silver radiance lit up the courtyard immediately surrounding Lord Shadowlyn, like any torch would. Looking into the surprised and smiling face of her host, she knew that they had done well.

"Lady Serenity," The light winked out, bringing a smile Eaerlraun. With slow and deliberate movements, he pulled the dagger from his boot and casually tossed it to one of his guardsmen. Usagi's gift immediately replaced it. "Thank you for this wondrous gift."

"We hope it serves you well, Lord Shadowlyn." She gestured to her company and bowed deeply to her host, as was Japanese custom. This seemed to take the man by surprise again, as he awkwardly returned her gesture.

"I am certain it will." He gestured for everyone to follow him as he ascended the steps to the northern tower. "Rooms have been prepared for your stay, and dinner will be served at your earliest convenience."

Usagi blushed as her stomach growled loudly. Dinah sniggered from her place at Ulin's side, as did Feldrin, causing Usagi's blush to deepen even more. Shandri scowled at her sister hard enough to peel paint, quickly silencing the little girl's giggle fit. Feldrin took a bit longer to calm. Eaerlraun smiled down at Usagi comfortingly.

"I think we should make our way to dinner first." He motioned for one of the tower's servants to come forward. The rather plain woman would have been lost in any crowd, but Usagi felt that something was off about her. "Uma will show your attendants where you will be staying, while we head on to dinner."

Usagi looked to Shandri's mother apologetically, but the woman was already moving forward to Uma's side. The look was not lost on Eaerlraun, who watched the interplay carefully and with hidden interest. Silea and Dinah Dunhill moved off to a separate entrance with Uma, leaving the rest of the party standing on the steps leading up to the north tower. Eaerlraun offered Usagi his arm and led the way, while Shandri, Feldrin, Ulin, and two other men from the tower followed the pair into the tower itself. Viet somehow appeared at Shandri's arm before she had passed through the door, surprising her. As the honor guard dispersed, the only ones left in the courtyard were Stedd, Taeghen, Heb, and a few of Moongleam's staff who were helping unload the carriage.

The furnishings weren't extravagant, but they weren't poor either. Usagi felt that they were tastefully comfortable, which seemed to reflect the overall character of the Lord of the tower. Paintings of woodland scenes and a number of antlers, and other animal trophies, lined the walls at varying intervals. A statue here and there of some creature or another gave the whole place a very masculine feel. Usagi kept her mouth shut, taking it all in, and trying to learn more about the man as Ulin had been teaching her to.

"I trust your trip was well, Lady?" Shadowlyn asked.

"Yes, thank you." Usagi could smell wonderful scents wafting on the air from somewhere near by. "We were a little surprised by Alustriel's message, but looking forward to a nice warm bed all the same."

At the mention of Alustriel's message, a brief shadow crossed Eaerlraun's face. It was barely a flicker of concern, but it was gone an instant after it had been noted. Usagi wasn't sure if she had seen right, but chose to play her hunch anyway. She'd already been embarrassed by her traitorous stomach, so making a fool of herself wasn't as big an issue as it had been.

"Is there something wrong, Lord Shadowlyn?"

Eaerlraun looked down at Usagi appraisingly for a moment, and then sighed.

"I am afraid that there are a great many things wrong at the moment, milady." He paused long enough to open a pair of large wooden doors and then took up Usagi's arm again to lead her and her companion's to a large table filled with food. "Let us sit and sup for a bit before talking about dark tidings, shall we?"

He seated Usagi first, pulling out her chair and helping her to get settled. Ulin and Feldrin's escorts followed suit, as did a very watchful Viet. Usagi was proud that the young man was a quick study in being a gentleman. The sight left Usagi feeling homesick for Mamoru, and more than a little troubled that she hadn't thought about her prince in a very long time. More disturbing still, was the image of a stormy-eyed, dark-haired face that seemed to superimpose itself over Mamoru's.

"To new friends."

The toast brought Usagi out of her reverie in a rush. She hastily lifted her cup and repeated Eaerlraun's words. Everyone drank, and then servant's bustled to and fro, serving the guests. Usagi had never eaten a meal served in courses before, and felt slightly out of place. As the soup came and went and the next course was laid before her, Eaerlraun asked for introductions. Usagi nodded to Ulin, who quietly returned the gesture before standing.

"Ulin Shemzarida Hashpida Harpell, my Lord Shadowlyn. I serve my Lady as her counsel and advisor." The Genasi bowed to Eaerlraun, who raised his cup to her.

"Your name is known to me, but the tales of your beauty scarcely do you justice."

Ulin smiled and inclined her head.

"My Lord is too kind."

"Not at all. Truth is truth, milady." Ulin bowed again and reclaimed her seat. Eaerlraun leaned back as the next a servant refilled his cup. "And from all that I have heard, you are as powerful in sorcery as you are beautiful."

"Power is relative, Lord Shadowlyn. And magic is the Harpell heritage, Mystra be praised." She pressed her palms together and bowed her head. "Both are at your disposal during our stay under your care."

Usagi nodded approvingly, then looked to Feldrin who stood and bowed a little bit more stiffly than Ulin.

"Feldrin Avenry, milord."

"Of Dunnel's Brotherhood?" Eaerlraun asked with a raised eyebrow.

"The same, milord."

"You're a bit far a field." The Lord of Moongleam Tower nodded appreciatively, looking at the young woman with a more critical eye than before.

"I'm searching for news on the whereabouts of my father, milord."

"And how goes your quest, ranger?" Eaerlraun's eyes followed Feldrin as she sat down again.

"I've not had much luck, milord." Feldrin admitted.

"Your father was a good man and I owe him a debt that cannot be repaid." This revelation set Feldrin back. She looked at her host with undisguised curiosity. "If time permits, I will share with you the tale. And you may be assured that if there is any way that I can help you in finding him, I will happily lend my aid."

"I would be most indebted to you, milord." Feldrin bowed her head gratefully.

"So, are you simply traveling with Lady Serenity then?"

"No Lord. I have taken up service with the Silver Princess."

Usagi cringed at the mention of that title.

"You have a worthy addition to your House then, Lady. Feldrin of Tradesburrow has a sharp eye, and few can match her bow work."

"I can think of a few, milord. You among them from all the talk spilling from Dunnel's mouth." Feldrin grinned.

"Dunnel is a fountain of exaggeration." Eaerlraun laughed. Feldrin toasted him and nodded. "But if you truly wish to satisfy your curiosity, we can find time to draw a few."

"I'd like that." Feldrin nodded as Eaerlraun turned his attention back to Usagi.

"Now, then Lady Serenity. Who be these two twinkling young stars that are so lost in one another's eyes? The one I know if only by his determination and unwavering service. His beautiful lady is however a new and welcome face."

Shandri blushed and lowered her gaze to her plate. Viet seemed to sit a little straighter and smiled broadly under the half elf's praise. Usagi grinned and leaned closer to Eaerlraun.

"The young man is Viet Lackman, a defender of Hemmerling. And his love is my Lady-in-Waiting, Shandri Dunhill."

"He fought in the Battle of Hemmerling?" Eaerlraun looked surprised.

"Yes, milord." Ulin interjected. "He gave good measure of himself."

"Be careful, Mistress Ulin." Shandri poked Viet in the side. "Any more talk and Viet's swelling head is likely to explode." Everyone laughed as the young man pouted.

"Peace young warrior. Peace." Eaerlraun held up his hands and shook his head. "Know this truth here and now. It is a woman's duty to humble us, lest we become over-confident and foolhardy. Love her all the more for it."

"HERE! HERE!" Feldrin cried out, raising her cup in another toast.

Laughter and more toasting followed as Eaerlraun introduced his men: Bolo and Fhyme. It took two more courses before the discussion returned to the topic that brought Usagi and her entourage to Moongleam Tower.

"I am afraid that the information I was given to pass on, is not pleasant." He sighed and swirled the wine in his cup. "Word has reached us from Nesme of an uprising in the Evermoors."

"An uprising, milord?" Feldrin looked worried.

"That is not a strong enough word for what happened in Nesme, Eaerlraun." Bolo said. The middle-aged man was broad of shoulder and wore his thick, curly brown hair in a ponytail. "Massacre is closer to the mark."

"Massacre?" Usagi gasped.

"Nesme was over run." Fhyme quietly sipped his wine and cracked his neck. Where Bolo was tall and broad, Fhyme was short and thin. He reminded Usagi of a Korean gymnast she had seen once.

"No." Feldrin shook her head in disbelief. "What of the Riders?"

"Some escaped, but many of them fell when the trolls attacked." Eaerlraun laced his fingers together and looked to Usagi. "Most of the inhabitants were driven from the town and hunted by the trolls, and by the time we learned of their plight many had been over run and killed."

"That's horrible."

Usagi felt the tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she imagined the loss of life. She might not have known what a troll was, but a monster was a monster, and she'd had more than her fair share chasing her in the past to know what the Nesmians must have been feeling.

"That is in deed a tragic tale, Lord Shadowlyn," Ulin said. "…but how does that impact us?"

"Ulin!" Usagi chided. "How can you be so…so cold about this?"

"Peace, Lady. Mistress Harpell is right to ask." Eaerlraun covered Usagi's hand with his own. "Nesme is far from here and has little impact on the roads that you will travel to reach Silverymoon. The only reason to mention it, is to illustrate the point that all is not well in the North."

"This was not an isolated incident then?" Ulin asked calmly.

"No, it was not." Shadowlyn admitted. "The High Lady herself went to Nesme's aid, but not before Mithril Hall itself was besieged by an army of orcs unlike any other in the history of the North. Their numbers were estimated to be in the tens of thousands, and accounts have it that the bastards have allied themselves with Frost Giants."

"I assume that the dwarves drove them back?" Feldrin asked. She hated orcs and giants with a passion, and that was readily apparent to any that looked her way.

"Not without losses. It was thought that King Bruenor Battlehammer himself had fallen to their might, but those tales were recently reproved by the High Lady." Usagi felt lost and it must have showed, because Eaerlraun patted her hand. "The North is soon to be embroiled in a very nasty war, and while Everlund may not be directly affected, Silverymoon will undoubtedly feel the press. The High Lady felt you should know of events in advance of your coming to her city."

"And what is the current status of this army?" Ulin asked.

"Entrenching itself in the shadow of Fourthpeak and all around the mountains of Fell Pass."

"The trolls were a part of this army then?" Ulin asked.

"There is evidence to support this theory. It seems too convenient that the trolls would attack in such an organized fashion."

"It doesn't match with their usual stupidity." Feldrin said.

"And what track will the Silver Marches follow?" Ulin asked. "Are steps being taken to aid Mithril Hall?"

"I have yet to speak with the High Lady at length, but the Elders have made it clear that we are to begin preparing our own defenses and securing supply lines between here and Silverymoon. Citadels Felbarr and Adbar will not let Bruenor face this threat alone. If there are orcs to be killed, you can rest assured that there will be a dwarf there to do the killing."

Feldrin, Bolo, and Fhyme laughed at that, but Usagi couldn't see where the humor was.

"Sundabar and Silverymoon are on war footing, and will most likely be training everyone they can get their hands on. With winter coming soon, you can be assured that the orcs are doing the same." Eaerlraun sighed. "Come the spring thaw, you can rest assured that the Rauvin and Surbin will run red with the blood from the battles sure to take place in the Frost Hills."

Ulin looked to Usagi with some concern. The silent question was asked and immediately answered. There was no hesitation in Usagi's determination to go on to Silverymoon.

"How soon will the passes be closing, Lord Shadowlyn?" Ulin asked.

"So you intend to head onto Silverymoon then?" The half elf asked.

"Yes." Usagi said determinedly. "As soon as possible."

"That is good to hear. Your presence in the city will bolster the morale of more than a few frightened people." Eaerlraun said with a warm smile. "The last major caravan of the season will be leaving within the next two tendays."

"How long will the trip take?" Usagi asked.

"Baring any poor weather, and depending on the size of the caravan, the trip averages approximately three to seven days."

Usagi nodded and looked thoughtfully at Ulin. Eaerlraun drew her attention back to him as he rang a small silver bell. A young man entered bearing an ivory scroll case. Eaerlraun thanked him and handed the case to Usagi.

"The High Lady asked that I give this to you before you left. It is magically sealed, as is Alustriel's custom with private communications."

"Thank you, Lord Shadowlyn." Usagi said distractedly.

"Please, Lady Serenity. I think we are beyond the need for titles. Call me Eaerlraun."

"Then it is only fair that you call me Serenity, Eaerlraun." She smiled.

He raised his cup again, and everyone else followed suit.

"To new friends."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Highden

The week had been hard on Keiichi and his friends, but not in a bad way. Kerden spent the first two days of his stay at the cavern; building a shrine on the small promontory everyone had taken to calling "Keiichi's watch. Bertrold had stopped by and was scared speechless when Keiichi introduced him to Kazukiichiro. The young inventor hadn't had a chance to truly test the limits of his creation, but the METAT was demonstrating itself to be a fast learner by picking up words and phrases to communicate its desires to Keiichi. This excited everyone to no end, most especially Maerdith – who began teaching the METAT every afternoon.

While Kazuki's vocabulary and ability to speak were speeding along at break neck speeds, his mindset still reflected that of a small child. It was extremely curious and had taken a special interest in the garden once it was able to gain access to the cavern. It had taken only a single day, under Keiichi's direction, for the robot to raise the cavern's ceilings to accommodate the METAT. Duncan complained about the noise, but Sam and Maerdith insisted that if he didn't like it, then he should get out of bed and go somewhere else. From the moment Kazuki activated, Sam was merciless in her brow beating of her husband. She nagged and begged, and demanded and cried – anything to convince Duncan not to give up. By mid-sun on the second day, Duncan exploded like a volcano. He clambered out of bed in a rage, put on his boots and trumped out to the beach. He got down on his knees and prayed from lunch until dawn the next day. The stubborn dwarf poured out his heart and soul to his god, but received no answer.

Keiichi could only smile at the memory of Duncan's rage. The dwarf's words still rang in his ears.

"I gave ye me life and all me heart! I stepped away from the gods of me father and me father's father! What have ye given me in my darkest hour of need? SILENCE! If ye won't answer the prayers of yer flock and if ye ignore the injustice done to the faithful, then to the Nine Hells with ye!"

He spat on the ground three times and trudged into the cavern and drafted Kerden into helping him clean up and drag his Gondsman up to Keiichi's Watch. Kazuki ended up taking over even before they'd crossed the cave's entrance. Once the Gondsman was placed upon the altar, Duncan and Kerdan kneeled before Skuld's shrine. With equal fervor and just as much faith, the dwarf prayed to Skuld, offering up his heart to the Goddess of Dreams Unrealized. Sam, while shocked and uncertain at the act, followed her husband's lead. They had scarcely begun to pray when the water beneath the promontory glowed and started to churn. Skuld made her appearance in style and grandeur, humbling Duncan, Kerden, and Sam.

The Norn of the future squealed in delight at the sight of Duncan's and Keiichi's creations and immediately began cooing over them. Kazuki wasn't sure how to take the excited Goddess and quickly returned to Keiichi's side to escape "Auntie Skuld's" affections. Duncan and Sam weren't exactly sure how to take her either, until Skuld decided to put on her "Official Hat" – Keiichi didn't stay for the rest of the wondrous visitation. It just didn't feel right, intruding on the trio's experience with Skuld.

By the time they came back inside, Sam and Duncan were teary eyed and overjoyed. Kerden was all smiles too, but none would say why. Keiichi and Maerdith refused to pry, and Ruthart was too busy with dinner to do more than congratulate the trio on whatever had happened. Their quiet support could not have prepared them for the sight of a clockwork dwarf walking in behind them. It was barrel-chested and carried a massive war hammer over its right shoulder. The wide brimmed cap that sat on his head was reminiscent of Banpei, but to Keiichi's surprise, the clockwork dwarf was able to remove it like a regular hat.

The metal was a curious mix of silver, gold, and what Keiichi had come to recognize as electrum. There were platinum and mithril gilding as well that etched out a number of runes and decorative patterns all over the exterior of the mechanical dwarf.

Keiichi, indeed everyone who saw Dreun, couldn't help but feel happy that Duncan had found something, or rather someone, to believe in again. The week passed quickly as the group worked hard to prepare their entries for the Festival. The greatest challenge was finding a secluded place to test the abilities of their creations. Haroun sent his spies to follow the group wherever they went, so it became something of a game to uncover and distract the nosy henchmen of their opponent. They teamed off and swapped practice days, allowing Duncan to test and refine his performance one day, while Keiichi took his turn the next. In the meanwhile, Kazuki and Dreun learned tirelessly.

Keiichi limited himself to taking a nap for no more than an hour each day, even with both Sam and Maerdith harping on him. The rest of the time was spent teaching the mechanical "children" the basics of communication and social interaction – and while Dreun couldn't talk like Kazuki could, he and Duncan had an empathic bond that got his messages across just fine.

Duncan and Maerdith would take over the lessons when Keiichi slept or was working with Kazuki, and by the end of the week they had made incredible strides. The night before the festival, Kazuki and Keiichi passed a particularly important milestone. It was an event that changed Keiichi's life almost as profoundly as that wondrous day he ordered for take-out.

"Good night, Kazuki-chan."

**_PHSSSSSH!_**

"_Goodnight, Father._"

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Turnstone Pass

Northwest of the Talons

Sefaril Kalavir and her sister Aelin clung to the body of the mage's husband, Maric. The wound was mortal, a poisoned bolt to the right lung. Maric had done well by the wound, killing ten of their attackers before being shot, and now the orcs only outnumbered their group four to one. With her spells exhausted and her sister's novice status in magic, the only things keeping the murderous horde from slaughtering the pregnant woman and her family were Ethalliandra Brestalda and Ked Moonson. The wandering pair had joined the Sundabaran caravan that was heading to Daggerdale as guards.

If the love of her life had not been bleeding to death in her arms, she would have been glad for their presence. All she could feel at this moment was the fear associated with the loss of her husband and the inevitable death of her unborn child. She prayed to whatever gods that might be listening, begging that she would be able to remain with her family and find the happiness and peace in the next life that she was being denied in this one.

In answer to her pleas the very air seemed to split and tear, opening a portal into a place of darkness. Angry black lightning filled the air above the defenders with the smell of ozone, and occasionally blasted an orc into ash. The atmosphere escaping the hole in reality seemed to leak a storm of emotions: rage, despair, and desire. The feelings held a semblance of her pain, only deeper and more refined. Sefaril couldn't place the focus of the desire, even had she been in the right mindset to try. The emotions were all so overwhelming that she was having trouble separating her own heart from the pain that was being pressed on her.

An enraged voice howled like a tempest from the portal, causing more of the orc horde to abandon their attack. Those that remained were either too stupid to recognize the danger they were in, or too afraid of losing face before their commanders. Regardless, the remaining orcs set themselves up in a surprisingly organized defensive ring, with their weapons bared, when a black haired figure fell from the portal.

It was immediately apparent to Sefaril that the figure was male, though he was moving too fast for her to recognize much else. The moment his body hit the ground, he was rolling to his feet and settled into an unarmed defensive stance that resembled the ones that Ethalliandra and Ked were using. From her position, she could see his face and the expression he wore made Sefaril shiver with fear.

His stormy eyes glowed with power and a strange, seed shaped symbol blazed at the center of his forehead. The emblem was literally aflame with indigo fire, but it was a cold fire that chilled the air around him. His eyes fell to Sefaril and Aelin, and then passed over Maric's pale form. His eyes narrowed at the sight of the wound on the elf's side and closed completely after he looked at Sefaril. She wasn't notably pregnant yet, but from the way his anger grew colder still when he turned his attention on the orcs, she could tell that he knew she was with child.

When he struck, there was no mercy. He refused to listen to pleas for clemency and none of the orcs present left the field alive. Sefaril had been a part of many battles along side her husband. She had even met Maric on the battlefield in Cormyr – so she wasn't squeamish or easily disturbed by the sight of extreme violence. This though, wasn't anything near what she was used to. The man moved too fast for the eye to follow, and where ever he appeared an orc would die in an extreme fashion. Some would explode, others would fall apart, and one or two had simply fallen over screaming in agony sporting no visible wounds.

By this miracle, had they survived, but Sefaril couldn't celebrate. She could feel her husband fading and she wailed as he slipped away. The poison had locked his jaw shut, and made his body stiff. He tried to speak anyway, but the soft sounds that he managed to create were nothing more than grunts.

"Maric! Stay with me! Don't leave us!"

She knew she was going to pieces, but couldn't restrain her panic. Her baby needed its father. She needed her husband. They had been through so much together – from the racial prejudice that had come from a human woman loving an elf, to the many battles and wars that they had fought. She felt her panic ease as a hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked up into the stormy blue eyes of the half-elven man that had saved them. There was no compassion there, but there was understanding. Their savior turned his attention to Maric and settled on the bloody ground beside him.

"I can't heal you." His voice was flat and emotionless. He paused or a moment, cocking his head as if listening to something and then nodded. "I will protect them for you. Yes. As if they were my own."

Sefaril looked at her husband's face and watched his features relaxed.

"Go Maric Kalavir." The warrior's voice was quiet. Not soft by any means, but quiet all the same. "Sehanine awaits you."

There was a lengthy pause as the warrior looked at Maric intently.

"Don't worry about them. I'll send them to you when it's time."

Sefaril's husband nodded with difficulty and tried to lift his hand to his wife's cheek. As his arm started to fall, the warrior's hand blurred and caught it. Sefaril pulled it to her lips and kissed the palm tenderly, before placing it on her pregnant belly.

Maric took one last deep breath and smiled. Sefaril watched the light leave his eyes and knew that her husband was gone. Ethalliandra quickly began to gather their scattered belongings from the wreckage of the caravan, and check for other survivors. Sefaril couldn't bring herself to care. The warrior finally motioned for Aelin to care for Sefaril, then stood and lifted Maric's body into his arms. He passed the body to Ked Moonson and then gently lifted Sefaril into his arms.

"Follow me."

It wasn't a command, but there was little room for disobedience. The group made their way into the thick pines alongside of the caravan road. The only sound beyond the song of nature was the quiet weeping of Aelin and Sefaril as they mourned. The pregnant woman couldn't even bring herself to look at their savior, let alone thank him for rescuing them. All she could do at the moment was feel the sharp emptiness of her loss. The half-elf didn't seem to care one way or another. He simply walked deeper into the pine forest.

She wasn't certain how far they had walked. Time had little meaning for her at the moment. But when they did stop, she found herself at the crown of a tall, barren, hill that overlooked the road. It was a beautiful view, one that Maric would have loved.

"Set the body there."

The warrior pointed to a place at the center of the hill as he eased Sefaril to the ground. Aelin rushed to her sister's side and clung to her as Ked moved to do the warrior's bidding. Ethalliandra came up behind Sefaril and supported the pregnant woman's back with her own body. There were other survivors from the caravan with them, but the mourning widow ignored them in favor of looking between the dark haired half-elf and the body of her husband. They watched as their dark haired savior motioned Ked back and started pacing around Maric's body. He finally stopped and frowned, narrowing his eyes at the body in deep concentration. He lifted his arms and cupped his hands, palms facing one another, over his heart, and began taking deep breaths.

Then something in the air changed.

It was a subtle weight at first, a pressure that steadily grew into a notable tingling. Maric's body began to glow in the fading light of evening, and Aelin gasped as the dark haired man began to move in a fluid dance of grace and power. Gone was the causal destruction they had witnessed before, and in its place was a subtle…nurturing…series of movements that left one breathless.

The warrior didn't stray far from Maric's body as he circled the hilltop, and every once in a while he seemed to blur. It wasn't until Maric's body was fully buried that Sefaril sensed the magic of the area begin to bend around the man. She expected him to stop once Maric was interred, but he didn't. She couldn't really tell what he was doing or why, but the magic continued to bend and weave with his every move. It wasn't until Ethalliandra gasped and pointed to the ground where Maric's body had been, that the mage finally understood.

A sapling was rapidly growing at the center of the warrior's dance. It continued to grow larger and faster with each circuit, mimicking the man's quickening pace. His body was now glowing indigo, much in the same way that Maric's had done earlier. The light was oddly comforting in the growing shadow of the large tree. She couldn't place the type of tree that was entombing her husband, she'd never been that good with woodcraft. But its massive trunk and thick branches were fitting all the same. Maric would have loved to climb and nap among its branches.

The small group of survivors watched in awe as the massive tree finally stopped growing. The sun was now beneath the horizon, and Sefaril could see stars in the darkening sky. The branches of the majestic, three hundred and fifty foot tree, blocked many of those stars. Yet rather than feel disheartened, Sefaril felt safe and secure. It was as if a piece of her husband was watching over and sheltering them. The dark haired warrior ended his graceful dance and settled on one of the thick, man-sized roots.

"You died honorably Maric Kalavir." His voice was quiet but carried with it a sense of immense power. "You gave your life followin' the Code, protectin' those that couldn't protect themselves."

He placed his palm against the trunk of the tree and bowed his head. His voice became a whisper that still carried on the rapidly cooling air.

"I honor your sacrifice. Rest easy and know that I will protect your family, just like I promised."

Sefaril felt something wash over her. It was a blanket of warmth and peace that made her feel…not happy…secure. Her world had been changed irrevocably, but it wasn't such a dark place any more. The man lifted his head and stared into the shadows of a large skirted pine across from Sefaril and her companions sat. His eyes glowed white for a moment, and then his body relaxed.

"We'll camp here and heal up. Once everyone is fit to travel, we'll decide what we need to do or where you want ta go." He pointed to Ked and another man. "Gather up some extra hands so we can go find some blankets and stuff."

Sefaril found his eyes drift to her, but he seemed to be looking beyond her.

"Get a fire started and keep her warm until I can find something for her." Sefaril felt Ethalliandra nod at her back. "The rest of you sit tight and watch for trouble. If you see any more of them Oinkers, call out real loud and we'll come runnin' – got that?"

Sefaril didn't see, but could imagine the rest of the survivors nodding to him. She felt Ethalliandra and Aelin shift places as the elf woman and another figure left to collect firewood. Still, Sefaril couldn't take her eyes from the half-elven man walking towards her. Even with the light sheen of sweat on his face and the pain hidden behind his stormy eyes, the mage could feel his power. The sigil on his brow flashed, and his gaze turned away from Sefaril for a moment to look towards the Southeast.

"There you are."

She noted the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, and she finally saw a bit of his humanity break through his hard, stony exterior. He was a pillar of strength, which is what she needed now more than ever. Just by looking at him, she knew that his promise to Maric would be fulfilled. When his gaze fell on her again, the stoic mask was back in place – smooth and unrelenting.

"You and yer baby're gonna be alright, Sefaril Kalavir. And when the time comes, you'll move on ta be with yer husband. I don't know when that'll be, but between now and then yer gonna live for the baby." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "You live for the baby, and I'll take care of the rest."

It was a promise between them. One that Sefaril could readily agree to. The message was clear; Maric might be absent, but he wasn't gone. The Love of her life might be gone, but that didn't mean her life would be without love. She had a reason to live, and she had a little more than seven months left to grieve and prepare before Maric's child came into the world. Sefaril hugged the man awkwardly and whispered her thanks for that he had done for her. The man simply nodded and patted her shoulder. He didn't smile, but his eyes seemed to relax a bit as he stood to leave. He took a step away before she found the courage to snatch up his hand.

"What is your name?" It was a breathless question that caused the man to pause. He scratched the base of his braided pigtail absently as he looked down on her.

"Ranma. Ranma Saotome."

A gasp and the clatter of wood falling to the ground made Ranma spin in place and settle into a solid defensive posture. Sefaril followed his gaze to where Ethalliandra stood gaping at the dark haired warrior. To the mage's astonishment, the Moon Elf fell to her knees and pressed her forehead to the grass. Ranma growled and stalked over to the prone elf.

He lifted her to her feet and whispered something to her that made her lovely eyes bulge with disbelief. She nodded shakily and began to collect the firewood as the man stalked off towards the group that Ked had gathered. The large man started to fall to his knees, but Ranma blurred again and caught Ethalliandra's companion by the arm before he could get too far. Another whispered discussion had the bear of a man nodding rapidly, and then the group was gone – marching back the way they had come.

Sefaril pondered the interaction as a way to stave off the gnawing heartache that was waiting to assault her. She even went so far as to ask Ethalliandra about it, but found her question brushed aside as the woman had Aelin light the fire with a cantrip. As she settled back into her thoughts, she noted an oddly shaped shadow in the branches of her husband's tree above her. It wasn't a figure. Not exactly. Nor was it a trick of the light. It was something unnatural that had moved against the light of the glowing fire. She was certain of it. The mage wished that Onuli had survived the battle. Her pixie familiar would have been able to investigate the oddity.

By the time the scavenging group returned, thoughts of the creature had fled as Sefaril fell into a troubled sleep. When ever her dreams would turn dark or troubling, a majestic black horse would appear and drive the nightmares away. The pain of her loss might still be there, but the presence of the wild stallion brought her great comfort.

It was something that she would come to cherish in the days ahead.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

On the road to Silverymoon

The Everlund Pass

Alustriel's letter was doubly surprising once Usagi had gotten the opportunity to read it. With the amount of drink she and her companions imbibed the night of the dinner, it had taken a full day, and the aid of a mysterious gift, for Usagi to completely recover. Between the vomiting and the nasty headaches, she vowed to Ulin that she never wanted to drink alcohol again. Silea Dunhill appeared soon after this declaration, carrying the foulest smelling concoction Usagi had ever had the displeasure of experiencing. The scent alone drove the Silver Princess into another vomiting fit, but after finally getting the nasty potion down her throat, most of her hang over disappeared.

She spent the afternoon drinking water and eating baked crackers, while Ulin gathered information about the Everlund Pass and preparing everyone to leave. Feldrin took the opportunity to learn more about her father from Eaerlraun, but refused to talk about their closed-door sessions. Viet was in the same boat as Usagi, but Shandri had come out of the evening's festivities without so much as a headache. She envied the girl's stamina long enough to learn that she had only sipped where everyone else had guzzled. It was a hard won lesson, but Usagi vowed to mimic her the next time she was pressed into another formal dinner. It wasn't until late afternoon of the day after the dinner that she got around to opening Alustriel's rather unusual letter.

It wasn't so much a letter as it was an itinerary, laying out a schedule for personal time to be spent with Alustriel herself. She introduced herself and spoke at length about her sisters who would be joining them, informally introducing Storm and Sylune through descriptions and a small section where the women had taken the opportunity to write their own notes to Usagi. Alustriel ended the strange letter with a request to know how many people would be accompanying her and gave her instructions on how to reply – detailing out the fiery sparrow spell the High Lady had used to contact Usagi with upon arriving in Everlund.

Upon reading the letter, Ulin had looked at Usagi as if the girl had grown another head. When asked about her reaction, Ulin had skillfully evaded Usagi's questions and returned to her preparations. The second day after the dinner was spent in the company of Eaerlraun, Feldrin, Viet, and Shandri. The Lord of Moongleam Tower gave them a tour of Everlund and introduced them to a number of fairly important people, none of whose names Usagi could remember by the time they had returned to the tower. On the evening of the second day a small package arrived at the tower for Usagi, with a short note that simply said: "This trifle pales in comparison to your radiance."

Upon reading the message, Usagi blushed at the realization that it had come from a secret admirer and it took the combined efforts of Shandri, Dinah, and Feldrin to get her to open the present. The pearly white stone was spindle shaped and looked very costly. Usagi had examined it closely and soon realized that it was magical, not through any detection of her own either. She had no sooner placed the stone back in the small box lined with black velvet, than the curious artifact rose into the air and began orbiting her head. Once the stone was safely circling her head, Usagi was surprised to note that the residual ill effects of her dubious drinking experience finally disappeared.

When Ulin returned later that night, she stumbled into a wall upon seeing Usagi's gift and began demanding to know where she had come across the magical stone. The Genasi's already worried expression became truly troubled after reading the note. And when learning the use and apparent value of the Ioun Stone, Usagi became concerned as well. Whoever sent the gift to her (benevolent, as it might seem), was either rich beyond sense, a powerful magic user, or a combination of the two. Usagi's first thought was of the stormy eyed, pigtailed boy in her dreams. But upon reflection, she knew that it wasn't him – even if she didn't understand the reasons backing that knowledge.

So it was that, at dawn on their third day in Everlund, Usagi had placed the stone in a pouch and hung it around her neck. The mysterious admirer would no doubt make himself known in time, but only on his terms. Until then, she would have to focus herself on the trip to Silverymoon. With preparations complete, it was time to be on their way.

Ulin pulled everything together in a miraculously short amount of time in difference to getting Usagi to Alustriel as soon as possible. The extra dresses and clothing would be sent to Silverymoon with the last caravan, in care of Alustriel, and those clothes that were finished were carefully packed away. The sorceress had even made it a point to buy gifts for the High Lady and her sisters, much to Usagi's surprise. This of course pretty much gutted the rest of the available cash reserves gained from Hearthman's estate. Any more purchases would have to wait until funds started coming in from the mines and the sale of Hearthman's pricey art collection. Ulin had a little bit of money squirreled away for emergencies, but nothing that would cover any major expenses.

Once everything was packed, the group took their leave of Moongleam Tower and Everlund. Their numbers had grown by three, as Eaerlraun had insisted that Bolo, Fhyme, and another man named Aerven see the group to Silverymoon. The Moonlord pressed a large sum of gold into Ulin's hands to pay the way of the extra hands, and invited all to return some day.

The first day out from Everlund they made wonderful time, snaking their way through the Nether foothills on the winding trail that marked the road to Silverymoon. The Nether Mountains loomed to their right, and to their left lay the ancient forest known as the Silverwood. Bolo and Aerven told tales of Turlag the Treant, the guardian of the Silverwood, that night over dinner. Dinah had been enthralled in the stories and fought going to bed, until Ulin reminded her of the promise she had made. Shandri's sister had pouted all the way to her bedroll, and from the way the child wiggled it was a long time before she fell asleep.

The second day was warm, but Fhyme pointed out the clouds gathering in the higher parts of the Nether Mountains and called for rain in the next couple of days. Their pace slowed some as the trails seemed to get steeper and more winding the further along they went. Usagi pestered Ulin to tell her more about Alustriel and why she was so nervous about the woman, until the Genasi finally broke down and gave in.

She pulled Usagi aside and privately regaled her about the first and last meeting with the High Lady of the Silver Marches over thirty years past. They had met at a Mage Fair in a little demi-plane off the Beastlands. Usagi had no idea where that was, and Ulin didn't think it important enough to elaborate, so she ignored the reference. DelRoy Harpell, who was speaking at a symposium, with Ulin acting as his assistant, had introduced her to Alustriel. One of Ulin's cousins had thought it would be comical to prank Ulin, and gave her a rather potent alcoholic beverage "to settle her nerves." Ulin, smashed out of her gourd, dropped a crate of experiments and visual aides that DelRoy had brought for the lecture. One thing led to another and then…well, Ulin just hoped the High Lady was forgiving. It was well known that the woman had an incredible memory. In her defense, Ulin had been drunk at the time, and DelRoy's potion wasn't supposed to dissolve Alustriel's dress like it had, nor was it supposed to turn the High Lady's skin that fetching plum color.

By the end of the tale, Usagi was clutching her sides and howling with laughter. She continued to laugh long after Ulin left in a huff, and woke on the third morning sore and still giggling. She apologized to her friend, and tried her best to ease her fears about meeting up with Alustriel again. It didn't seem to help much, especially as Usagi couldn't help but giggle every time she looked at Ulin.

The third day out was a bit windy, and held the scent of rain. But, much to the group's pleasure, none came. The way became a bit more difficult for the travelers, with steep inclines and precarious turns along cliff sides that paced the Rauvin River over a hundred feet below. This switchback slowed their pace quite a bit, but Bolo assured Usagi they would make it to Silverymoon by the morning of the fourth day at the latest. She idly wondered if he had factored a mid-day battle with giants into his estimate.

The boom of another boulder exploding overhead, kept the group pinned down beneath a large overhang. The carriage had been abandoned after the first boulder crushed two of the four horses that were pulling it. The other two were injured and from the looks of things would have to be put down. Aerven was seriously injured before everyone could make it to the overhang, and in that moment Usagi was grateful for the gift of the Ioun Stone – if for no other reason than it was going to save the man's life. Across the way, Feldrin, Bolo, and Ulin were pinned down by another barrage of stone. She looked at the frightened faces of Silea and Dinah and seeing that they were here in mortal danger, was seriously upsetting Usagi a great deal.

"This is ridiculous." She growled. She stood to her full height and held her locket up high above her head. "MOON ETERNAL MAKE UP!"

She ignored the shocked and uncertain looks on the faces of her new friends as the magic settled into place. Her only thought was getting Silea and Dinah to safety. She idly noted Ulin, Shandri, and Feldrin scrambling after her.

"ANADIA!"

"COLIAR!"

"GARDEN!"

Each of the women called on their magic in turn, flooding the area with enough power to give the giants above pause. The boulders stopped long enough for Sailor Moon and her Senshi to get into the clear. Rather than being terrified as she usually was, Sailor Moon buried herself in the anger she felt towards the giants for endangering a mother and her child. She did not dodge the large, car sized rocks as they fell around her. They didn't seem to be coming close to her so she just ignored them and looked up to the positions of the towering behemoths. There were five of the creatures. Their stone gray skin and bald heads made it difficult to see them, but their constant movement gave them away.

The vicious smiles on their faces only made her more and more upset. The thought that they were purposefully enjoying this pushed her over the edge. Something in her snapped and Sailor Moon disappeared in a blinding flash that caused all of the giants to cry out in fear and anger. When light returned to normal, the Silver Princess stood regally at the center of her Senshi. The giants raised their boulders again, intent on smashing this sorceress before she could cast any spells.

"STOP THIS!" The roaring sound of her voice caused the walls of the small canyon to rumble.

One of the giants was hit in the head, and subsequently squished, by a hut sized boulder that had come loose from above him. Serenity neither noticed nor cared at the moment, as all of her attention was on the leader of the band. The giant in question was over fifteen feet tall and was over seven foot wide at the shoulder. His huge muscles looked as if they were carved stone, rather than flesh. Serenity, by the presence of her power alone, seemed to tower over the monster.

"Why are you attacking us?" She demanded. Her voice didn't shake the stones this time, but she still seemed extremely dangerous.

"Uhm…" The leader of the giants looked to his companions, who all shrugged. They had all faced humans before, and never once had any of those battles played out like this one was. They just didn't know how to deal with this pretty little woman. Her impatience getting the better of her, Serenity began tapping her foot and her frown became a scowl.

"Come down here." When the giants didn't immediately obey her, her eyes glowed and the crescent moon on her forehead blazed with power. "Come down here, NOW!"

To the amazement of everyone involved, the four remaining giants hastily complied with the command. Serenity noted that the Loras were now stalking the high ground, waiting for her signal to pounce. She shook her head and waved them away, before turning her attention back to the giants. She placed her hands on her shapely hips and scowled up at the leader in a pose that was the picture of an incensed woman.

"Did you know that we have a child in our company?" The demand was made in her best imitation of an extremely cross Ikuko Tsukino. The lead giant shook his head. "How would you feel if I started throwing big rocks at your daughter?"

The giant scratched his head, obviously perplexed.

"Fine, I guess."

"Fine! What if I hurt her!" Serenity demanded.

"That's just silly! A rock hurting Dolga's daughter!" The giant laughed. His companions joined in until Serenity stomped her foot, making the ground tremble with the blow.

"And what if she threw fire or lightning?" Ulin asked calmly. "What then?"

This seemed to grab the monster's attention. He looked angry for a moment, until he saw the still burning crescent moon on Serenity's forehead. He hung his head and shuffled his gargantuan feet.

"I'd be upset." He admitted.

"Upset? Upset! You killed two of my horses and injured the other two! Not only that, but you hurt one of my friends really badly!" Serenity's voice became very outraged. "You'd best go apologize to everyone right now before you see me get really upset!"

The party members were astonished as the giants followed through with Serenity's demand. One by one they made their way to everyone, apologizing and begging forgiveness. Every once in a while they would look back to Serenity who was, by this point, blazing like a small star. When they had finished, they returned to her side and averted their faces, unable to look at her.

"Since you killed our horses, you are going to help us go the rest of the way to Silverymoon." The giant looked up sharply, but quailed beneath the fiery stare Serenity shot his way. "Now then, there were five of you. Where is your friend?"

"You squished 'im." Dolga said petulantly.

"WHAT?" Serenity looked back at her Senshi in fear. "Take me to him!"

This took the giant leader by surprise.

"Uh, why?" The bewilderment expressed by the giant was echoed between the Senshi and the rest of Serenity's group.

"So I can heal him!" She said in exasperation.

"You want to heal Broan?" Dolga asked incredulously. This was unheard of. It just didn't happen. The giant looked down on Serenity with open confusion. "Why?"

"Because he's hurt."

She wanted to scream. All of this stalling was pushing her frayed nerves to new heights. She started up the rocks towards the position where she had seen Broan last. Everyone watched her blankly, radiating disbelief. The Silver Princess ignored them all, hiking her dress up over her knees and ran to the rocky slope. It took the giants a moment to realize that she was serious, and once they did three of them sat down on the ground while Dolga took two steps and gently scooped Serenity up onto his shoulder. Ulin and Feldrin bristled, but Shandri held them back as the giant began picking his way up the rocky mountainside.

It didn't take them long to make it to Broan's side, and one look at him told Usagi that she was too late. He was there, the dark haired man she'd fought outside of Hemmerling. He stood next to Broan, waiting for her to arrive. Dolga stopped the moment he saw the armored figure standing next to his kin.

"Jeruul."

"What?"

"Death." The sound of Dolga's reverent, if not fearful, voice reminded the Silver Princess of tumbling stones.

"Set me down." The icy tone of her voice left no room for argument. Dolga did as he was told and stepped back a fair distance. She didn't pay much attention to him as she strode forward to the already cooling body.

"Well met, Serenity Silverhand." The man's voice was warm and companionable, nothing like she had ever associated with Death before. "I'm glad that we could meet again so soon."

"I wish that I could say the same." She said evenly.

If Kelemvor was offended, his smiling face did not show it. Even if he had been, the Silver Princess wouldn't have cared. She only had eyes for Broan's bloody head and wide, staring eyes.

"You have taken him." She accused.

"It was his time."

"I want him back." She demanded.

"You cannot have him." Kelemvor's voice was quiet but firm.

"What do you want for his soul?" She asked bluntly.

The armored man shook his head sadly.

"Nothing."

"Why not?" She yelled. "This being died because of me! At least give me the opportunity to set things right!"

"This is right, Daughter of Mysteries." Kelemvor crossed the intervening space and laid his hands on her shoulders. She tried to free herself not out of fear, but out of growing anger.

"IT IS NOT!" She pounded on his breastplate, but he drew her close. Tears of frustration were rolling down her cheeks and still she pounded against him. The ringing was thunderous as she instinctively channeled the power of the Guinzuisho through her fists and after a time, small fist sized dints started to appear on the ornate breastplate. Kelemvor didn't seem to notice the damage as he began to softly stroke her back.

"This was Broan's time, Serenity. Whether by accident or design, it was his moment to move on to the next great mountain – to join his grandfathers and their grandfathers. Would you rob him of that joy?"

The Silver Princess only wept in response. All she could think about was the cold empty sense of loss that Broan's family would be feeling.

"Death is a natural thing, Daughter of Mysteries. It is the prescribed end of all life, the great inevitability. Why do you fight it so?"

She didn't answer right away, trying to sift through and center all of her emotions into a coherent answer.

"Because it makes people suffer."

Kelemvor chuckled.

"If that is true, then why do you not battle as fiercely against life as well?" Serenity just looked up at Kelemvor blankly. "Life is the definition of suffering, Serenity. Everyday is one more battle in a constant war against suffering. Mortality's struggles are defined by the suffering they overcome. Death is not the end of suffering, but it is a respite from the struggle."

She looked at the cooling body of the giant not far off and sighed.

"I don't understand."

"You will, in time." He kissed her forehead.

"What if I don't want to?" She asked.

"What you desire is not necessarily what you need. You will understand death's purpose in time." He dried her tears with his thumb. "Until then, go with my blessing and think on my words."

He released her and looked up at Dolga.

"You will see her safely to her destination, Dolga, son of Fergol. Do this and your life will be long and fulfilling." The consequences of not doing so were quite obvious. The giant nodded and trembled in his over large, animal skin, boots.

Kelemvor turned away and began walking up the rocky slope. Before he disappeared around a massive boulder, he paused and looked back at the Silver Princess.

"I do not wish to be your enemy, Serenity Silverhand." He grinned widely. "Your Mother would be cross with me if that happened."

Serenity watched as the god of death disappeared around the large outcrop. She didn't hear his boots fading in the distance or the echo of his armor clanking together. He was just…gone. She felt the power leave her, and with it gone Serenity became Usagi again. Only this time, a little less Usagi returned while more of Serenity remained.

The void of loss hit her like a freight train. She looked at the body of Broan and the angry tears she'd gotten under control broke free again. She wept, barely taking note of Dolga kneeling beside her. She didn't hear Ulin or Shandri or Feldrin come up behind her, or register their warm embrace. All she saw was the dead body of Broan, with its brains splayed out all over the ground and a small lake of blood pooling beneath the body. It was a nightmare come true. Accident or not, she had been the cause of it. She had been the angry one. She had been the one intent on hurting those who had hurt and endangered her friends. She was the responsible one because she had the power to avoid the consequences altogether.

She grabbed hold of Dolga's massive, dangling hand and let the sorrow flow. She kept whispering apologies over and over, much to the giant's surprise and discomfort. She cried until fatigue finally overtook her and sleep came. It wasn't a refuge though. The dreams still came, and with them the guilt came too.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Klauthen Vale

Klauth had laughed until he felt he was going to die. His Silver Princess, scolding giants as if they were hatchlings! The symmetry of the moment was beautiful. The death of the Stone Giant had been priceless as well. All in all, it was an event like no other – one that brought back feelings he'd not felt in years. Yet, when his Beloved realized that the stupid creature had perished, her behavior confused Klauth greatly. Rather than being proud of the kill as any dragon would, she had felt concern. Then there was the one sided conversation she'd had. That had been worse than confusing, because Klauth knew that someone was really there. The fact that the dragon's scrying was being repelled, made it apparent that the being was well versed in powerful magic.

He could guess the topic of discussion between his Silver Princess and this mysterious invisible figure, but not the reasoning behind it. A kill was a kill. It was an obstacle to over come, and by doing so his Beloved was the triumphant one. Why was her victory tainted with tears and remorse?

The ancient red dragon shifted his wounded bulk and growled in frustration.

Wait. Remorse? Could she actually be feeling compassion for a Stone Giant? Was such a thing possible? Old Snarl watched the scrying mirror, judging her actions and body language carefully. When the young woman latched onto the other giant's hand and began apologizing, Klauth's fears were realized.

How could she feel remorse for killing a giant?

The question would worry the dragon for a very long time. But, when the answer finally did come to him, the Silver Princess just became all the more precious to him.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Lantan

The Festival of Creation was a festival of great import on the Isles of Lantan. It was a showcase of talent and ideas, wherein great minds celebrated their industry and honored the Great Maker, Gond. In closest terms, it was much like a Magefair…with just as much noise and weirdness.

There were booths displaying all manner of technological gadgets and doo-hickeys that were supposed to make life easier – assuming you survived the experience of using the items you were purchasing. Wandering debates on steam power versus wind power and floating symposiums proudly demonstrating a new tool or technique, swept people up and deposited them in front of some new distraction. Children rode automated rides or watched as Techsmiths pitted their Gondsmen against one another in wrestling matches.

It was a bright celebration of ingenuity and progress.

Most who came were suitably impressed by the opportunity to see the new creations of their fellows, even if they were jaded veterans of the Festival. But one Gondar priest amongst the throng was neither impressed nor excited about the coming of this day. Haroun Mostana was nervous, and rightly so. Or all of his efforts to the contrary, he had been unable to prevent Duncan Steelwater and that thrice damned Keiichi Morisato from confirming their participation. The crowds, upon hearing that the competition was still going forward, came out in droves – even the Builders Council and the highest members of the church were on hand to witness the event.

The fact that the dwarf was still participating after all that Mostana had done to ensure his forfeiture was more than disconcerting. It was distressing. The gnome wasn't sure whether the dwarf was just displaying the dogged stubbornness of his race, or proving that he truly had the favor of Gond. The Wonderbringer alone knew that, since the destruction of the Steelwater's home and shop, Haroun hadn't been able to cast a single spell to save his life. His prayers and petitions had been unanswered and his attempts at penance were being ignored. It didn't matter how much gold or supplies he donated to the church, nor did it seem to matter how charitable he was to his neighbors and friends. Gond was silent and that, above all else, was what had the Artificer on edge.

The only bright spot in all of this was the judges' panel that High Builder Maverly had called in to officiate the controversial match. Two of the judges were gnomes that Haroun had greased long ago, and the other three were, at best, neutral towards him. There was only one judge among the three that Haroun hadn't been able to approach, and not or lack of trying either. The burly gnome with the red beard simply stared at Haroun with a frigid glare and walked away.

There was no real opportunity for Mostana to sabotage the entries, but that didn't mean that he couldn't pay someone else to do it. The Artificer arranged for his demonstration to be held last, and had found ten very enterprising apprentices to make some last minute changes to the testing range that his challengers had requested.

It wasn't that he lacked faith in his entry. No, he was certain that the Solar Cannon would be well received by the panel and by his god. War was profitable, and this invention alone would certainly make the church quite a bit of money…if only to keep the weapon off the fields of battle. No, the reason for rigging the course had more to do with the desire to see these two upstarts humiliated in front of the entire community. Mostana hungered to see Steelwater shamed from the island. In the distance, he could see a large, covered wagon being pulled by that damnable Iron Horse of theirs. Haroun snarled and swept through the crowds towards the proving grounds.

Yes, indeed. He would see Duncan Steelwater weep and beg for mercy before the day was through.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Turnstone Pass

Northwest of the Talons

The Shadovar held up the Rod of Shadows and motioned his servant forward.

"What have you discovered, my pet?"

The feminine shadow held out her hands to her master and, at his nod she kissed him. The sights, sounds, and experiences of the creature's spying poured into his consciousness. It was all there, from the waylaid caravan, to the heroic death of the elf, to opening of the strange the portal. The Shadovar swallowed hard at the slaughter of the orcs and the sight of the memorial seemed to unnerve him even more.

"This is a Power." He whispered. Shaken, the Shadovar agent said nothing to the Shadow Servant as he took his leave, yet it followed him loyally to the portal stone anyway. The Princes would be informed and they would make the decision on how to proceed. He simply hoped that they would allow him the blessing of being assigned to some task far away from this Ranma Saotome.

He had no desire to die any time soon.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Silverymoon

Alustriel spent the days following the events in Velprintalar, scrambling to prepare her castle to receive their very special guest. She and the other sisters had poured over the words their goddess had spoken, looking for the deeper meanings and a greater understanding of the mystery Mystra had set before them.

Alassra began casting auguries the hour after Mystra's presence fled, and hadn't stopped since. The girl's splotchy past was filled with great tragedy and constant struggle, and what little the Simbul had been able to learn of this Silver Princess surprised and astonished the Seven. It wasn't everyday that you learned the true fate of your mother.

Laeral and Sylune chose to focus their efforts on the present, scrying (much the same as a smitten red dragon was) for information on the current doings of this Silver Princess. Not only were they impressed; they fell to the same trap as Old Snarl – only with different results. They missed out on the events in Everlund Pass, and the current image in their scrying pool was of a sleeping girl with long silver hair, much like their own.

"She's so young and cute!" Laeral gushed.

"Much cuter than you ever were." Sylune grinned.

"I was never cute." The Lady Mage of Waterdeep stuck her nose in the air petulantly. She was beautiful, not _cute_! Her sister Storm snorted from her position opposite Sylune. But it was Alustriel that drove the nail home, as only a sister could.

"I think we can all agree to that."

The High Lady of the Silver Marches stuck her tongue out and held her nose, as if warding off a nasty smell. Laeral threw a very offensive gesture her sister's way, causing Storm and Sylune to giggle. Alustriel blew her sister a loving kiss and then turned her attention back to the scrying pool.

"We can't let the others get to her just yet." Storm looked on the girl with a soft smile.

"Most certainly not!" Sylune agreed.

"Can you imagine the corruption?" Laeral pressed the back of her hand against her forehead and feigned swooning.

"Aren't we the pot calling the kettle black." Sylune grinned irreverently. All the sisters laughed. They hadn't had this much fun in ages.

"Qilue wouldn't be so bad." Storm said.

"True, but we want to have room to corrupt her ourselves." Laeral wiggled her eyebrows.

"To say the least!" Alustriel and Storm cheered.

"Besides, what good is dancing naked beneath the full moon while waving a sword around? The Eighth Star needs to be weaned on the milk of Intrigues, Magic, and Mysteries!"

"I'm sure that we can fit an intrigue or two into her itinerary, Dear Sister." Sylune deadpanned.

Alustriel opened her mouth to deliver her own pithy comment, but she was interrupted by a quiet knock on her chamber door. With standing orders not to disturb her, Alustriel knew that whoever was on the other side of the door must have pressing need to interrupt her scrying. The High Lady banished the image in the pool and crossed the room in a swirl of cloth. She opened the door slowly and was greeted by the weathered face of Taern Hornblade, the High Mage of Silverymoon. The man bowed deeply at the waist to his queen, but the grim expression on his face didn't falter.

It rarely did, Alustriel noted with some humor.

"Taern?"

"Forgive the intrusion, milady. But, there is something outside the Blacklar Gate that requires your attention."

Alustriel returned to her scrying pool and with a wave of her elegant hand called up an image of the gate. The sight of four Stone Giants standing behind a horseless carriage and flanked by a small company of riders caused her to raise an eyebrow. She looked at her sisters, who only shrugged. The jade-skinned woman arguing with the Gatemaster was very familiar to Alustriel. She and her sisters had been watching her since leaving Velprintalar. Another gesture brought the sounds of the conversation into the scrying room.

"…annot explain what I do not understand myself, Gatemaster Yuleth! They insisted on accompanying us out of the Pass, and I am not one to argue with a giant intent on protecting me. I say again, and will continue to say it until it takes hold, we are here at the High Lady's invitation. At the very least send word to her of our arrival."

Laeral murmured something about the green woman having "good sense not to argue with a giant" before being hushed by her sisters.

"Word has already been sent to the Palace, Mistress Harpell. However, I still cannot allow you entry into the city as long as they are in your company." Gatemaster Yuleth pointed to the squatting behemoths behind the carriage. Alustriel waved her hand again, silencing the pool and causing the image to disappear.

"It seems that Ulin is getting a little frustrated." Sylune noted. "How long will you let her stew for your ruined dress?"

"It wasn't the dress that upset me." Alustriel groused. "It took over four months for my skin color to return to normal."

"Surely the Shining Lady isn't so petty?" Laeral asked with a wry grin. Alustriel snorted and stuck her tongue out at the Lady Mage of Waterdeep. A discreet cough from Taern brought the women back to the problem at hand.

"Let us go, sisters." Alustriel offered her arm to Sylune, who took it eagerly. "We must greet our guests properly."

The four silver-haired women swept pass Taern, each kissing the stoic man on the cheek as they passed him. Once free from the scrying room Alustriel called on her magic to teleport the group down to Blacklar Gate.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Blacklar Gate

Silverymoon

Ulin was reaching the end of her rope with the man in front of her. She knew he was just doing his job, but this was ridiculous. He wouldn't let anyone in until he received word from the Palace, and everyone was getting hungry. The giants were getting restless, which had a rather alarming effect on the guardsmen along the wall. A number of weapons were being openly brandished and she counted at least three practitioners of the Art on the wall above the gate itself.

She had purposely avoided waking Usagi in order to give the girl a long needed rest. The events on the mountain had obviously distressed her, and Ulin vowed to deal with this problem without involving her Lady.

"Gatemaster Yuleth, report."

Ulin's eyes bugged and her stomach turned to stone at the sound of that voice. The soldier before her snapped to attention crisply and saluted Alustriel as she and…oh, sweet Mystra preserve and protect! That was Storm and Laeral! It seemed two of the Seven were visiting Silverymoon. Ulin was dead. She just knew it. Sighing, she curtsied deeply to Alustriel as the woman stopped before her. The Gatemaster rambled on about the giants and the oddness of the party before him, but Ulin ignored everything except holding her bowed position.

If she were going to die, then at the very least she would die with some dignity. She waited to be turned away, or worse, but what she received instead was Alustriel bowed down next to her, looking intently at the ground.

"Do you see something particularly interesting on the cobblestones, Ulin Shemzarida Hashpida Harpell?" The woman's smile was beautiful and warm.

"No, High Lady." She whispered.

"Then by all means, please stand. That looks terribly uncomfortable."

Ulin scrambled to her feet and smoothed her skirts.

"Now then, you seem to have brought some very interesting guests to Silverymoon." Alustriel stepped past the Genasi and walked straight up to the tallest of the giants. She smiled openly, and held her hands out in a gesture of peace.

"Greetings good friend! I am Alustriel, High Lady of the Silver Marches. It is my pleasure to welcome you and your companions to Silverymoon." This brought a few quiet gasps from the wall, but no one made a move to contradict their ruler's words. Dolga seemed a bit uncomfortable with the greeting but nodded his head to her.

"Dolga."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, friend Dolga." Although her voice was slightly raised, Alustriel was as gracious towards the giant as she would be to any visiting dignitary. "Might I ask what business brings you to our fair city?"

The giant pointed to the horseless carriage with one mammoth finger.

"Jeruul told me to protect the Silver Lady, so I'm protecting the Silver Lady."

"Jeruul?" Alustriel asked.

"Death." Storm supplied from her position near Ulin.

"Death told you to protect this group?"

The giant nodded.

"Told me to get her where she was goin' safe and sound." Dolga jerked his thumb to the city and shrugged. "Told me that if I did, he'd let me live a long time."

"Well, that seems like a fair bargain indeed." Alustriel admitted. "Do you intend to enter the city then?"

To the relief of everyone present, Dolga shook his head.

"Nope. Just get her here safe, and leave." He paused and narrowed his eyes at Alustriel. "She is safe here, right?"

"I will protect your Silver Lady with my own life's blood, good Dolga. You have my word."

"You ain't lyin' ta Dolga is you?" The other giants started to shift causing the defenders of the wall to shift as well.

"What oath shall I take to show my sincerity, friend Dolga?"

The giant scratched his bald head thoughtfully and shrugged.

"Can't think of none." He stood to his full height, and his companions followed suit immediately. "You just keep her safe. If we hear she's hurt, we'll be back."

"I would expect no less, good friend Dolga."

Alustriel bowed to the giants and they promptly turned away. Their long stride shook the ground a bit as they began making their way back to their homes in the Everlund Pass. Once they were well on their way, Alustriel turned back to the gathered crowd. More than a few were staring at her in awe and admiration. The High Lady poked her head into the carriage on her way back and smiled at the sleeping form of Dolga's Silver Lady. Her head was in the lap of the elder Dunhill girl, just as Shandri's sister mirrored Usagi in the lap of Silea Dunhill. She welcomed the two women to Silverymoon and stepped back before they could answer. Once she was back near the gate, she called out to her Gatemaster.

"Gatemaster Yuleth."

"Milady!" He saluted crisply.

"Please gather a team of horses and have this carriage, along with the rest of Mistress Harpell's group escorted to the Palace. Be gentle as you work, there is precious cargo in that coach."

"Yes, milady. Will you require anything else?"

"For the time being, just an opportunity to express my gratitude for your diligence, Gatemaster." She smiled and laid her hand on his shoulder. Yuleth saluted again.

"No gratitude necessary, High Lady. My life is yours to command."

The soldier began barking commands to his subordinates the instant Alustriel let him go, and in no time a team had been assembled and tethered to the carriage. Ulin watched the orderly hustle and bustle get underway and came away from the experience with a greater respect for Alustriel and her city. She was so intent on the spectacle that she never noticed the High Lady arrive at her side.

"Shall we go, Mistress Harpell?"

Ulin nearly jumped free of her skin at the sound of the woman's voice so close to her ear. Her heart was still in her throat when she answered the woman.

"Go, milady?"

"To the Palace of course." The ruler of the Silver Marches slipped her arm through Ulin's, as did her sister Storm. Laeral and the other woman joined Alustriel on the woman's other side and closed the circle in a chain of linked arms.

"We've much to prepare before your Lady arrives, I should think."

"Prepare?" Ulin was feeling faint. Arm in arm with living legends often did that to a person.

"Oh, dear yes." Laeral said. "There's the feast, and picking out an appropriate dress, and choosing an appropriate escort."

"We mustn't forget that!" Storm grinned.

"I should think that the more pressing need is figuring out a way to break the news to Serenity." The other woman said pointedly.

"News?" Ulin's mind was awhirl and she was starting to develop a headache.

"Yes, Darling." Storm patted Ulin's hand. She looked at the Genasi thoughtfully and then cocked her head. "Tell me Earth Sister. How do you think we should tell Serenity that she is our sister? Would it be better to just come out and say it, or do you think we should ease her into the idea?"

"Sister?" Ulin's eyes rolled up into her head and she passed out. The last thing that she heard before succumbing to the darkness was a reproving cluck from the unknown woman.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Lantan

The air was super charged with anticipation as Keiichi and Duncan pulled up to the proving grounds. He could already make out Father Ellosin standing with and speaking to a number of older gnomes. Evandur Thistlebeck, the Seeker of Ohgma that had cared for him after his first shocking encounter with Sister Maerdith, stood beside High Builder Maverly. His large "Santa" belly was shaking like Jello at something the Gondar priest had said. It was a positive sight in Keiichi's mind.

"_Are we there yet, Father?_"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

Keiichi glanced around nervously; trying to make sure that no one was near enough to hear Kazuki-chan's "whisper" or see beneath the canvas tarp as the METAT vented steam. Luckily, no one was within a hundred feet of them. Considering the amount of whistles, clangs, and hoots, Keiichi doubted that anyone would have looked their way twice. Still, he wanted to make a proper entrance. Yet like any curious and impatient toddler, Kaszuki was getting beyond annoying with his repetitious questions.

"Yes, Kazuki-chan. We're finally here."

"_Can I come out now?_"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

"Not yet, Son. We have to wait for them to tell us they're ready for us." He tried to make his voice patient, but it came out with a hint of exasperation.

"_But, Faaaatheeeer! It's so hot in here!_"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

The idea that a one point five ton, mechanical colossus could whine in a five year old voice, left Keiichi feeling both proud and distraught. Was this what it was going to be like for him and Belldandy when they had kids? The brief image of his radiant goddess holding a baby and smiling down at a little girl made Keiichi's heart flutter. He could already see Kazuki-chan holding a little giggling boy high in the air while he tinkered with some new vehicle for an exhibition race.

"It won't be much longer Kazuki-chan, I promise." He waved to Ruthart and pantomimed drinking a glass of water, then pointed to the wagon. The young gnome nodded and came running. "Ruthart's going to give you some water while I go and get things moving. Be good and stay in the wagon until I give you the signal, okay?"

"_Okay Father._"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

It didn't take long for Keiichi and Duncan to find High Builder Maverly and Haroun Mostana. The former hadn't moved from his spot, while the latter was chatting with a number of the officials near the judges' table. The sight of the greasy little gnome, carrying on with the clergymen left a bad taste in Keiichi's mouth, but he did his best not to let it bother him. If the jerk wanted to curry favor with the priests, let him. They weren't here to win favor with the Church of Gond any more.

They were here to show these bigots that the Wonderbringer wasn't the only god of creation in town anymore. He doubted if anyone would recognize the runic standard on Druen's shield but, in the event that they did, Duncan had already made it perfectly clear how he was going to respond. He was proud of his new affiliation and, one way or another, these people would know that Duncan Steelwater and his family belonged to Skuld now.

The opening ceremony was terribly longwinded, and Keiichi couldn't help but look back to the wagon and wince as it rocked and creaked grumpily. Many took this to mean that Keiichi and Duncan's creations were unstable and pointedly gave the wagon a wider berth. A red bearded gnome, wearing the navy blue sash of a judge, finally stepped forward and belted the pontificating Master of Ceremonies soundly.

"We all know what we're hear to see and why, you great wheezing bellows!" He pointed to Duncan, Keiichi, and Haroun. "You're each here to win the favor of Gond, so get on with it! My belly is sitting on empty and I would like to see more of the Festival!"

The crowd roared with laughter and approval at the usurper's commentary.

"Steelwater. You and your friend asked to demonstrate your entries in tandem, is that correct?"

Duncan and Keiichi nodded.

"Well, get on with it then! Gond is waiting to be impressed!"

And impress they did. Keiichi whistled shrilly three times, marking the signal for Kazuki-chan and Druen to make their debut. Ruthart and Kerden leapt from their cover and ran as fast as their little legs would carry them, causing the crowd to gasp in anticipation aa little fear. It was fully expected that the wagon was going to explode based on the speed that the wagon-handlers were running. Once the pair of gnomes were sufficiently clear, the massive wagon groaned and buckled as the canvas cover shot high into the sky and lost itself in the sun. The crowd "oooh'ed" as the giant tarp topped fifty feet and opened up blotting out the light of the Sun for an instant to reveal Kazuki-chan in all his polished glory. Cradled in his arms was a smaller, but no less impressive Druen.

The METAT and the Banpei Guardian fell like stones. But, rather than smashing into the ground as everyone expected, powerful counter thrusters fired at the last minute allowing Kazuki-chan to touch down relatively softly. Keiichi turned his attention from the amazed crowd, to the mixed expressions of the judges. Most wore looks of awe and envy of the highly streamlined designs of the automatons. Keiichi had to admit that the pair looked stunning. Their armor was polished to a high sheen and the actual designs were so alien and futuristic in comparison to the traditional Gondsman or Golem.

Keiichi had drawn heavily on a number of anime mecha from his youth and recent memory for Kazuki-chan's look. Macross, Fight! Super Robot Life (Transformers), and a host of others had influence in the design. But the METAT's final look was a generous amalgamation of Unit 0 from Neon Genesis Evangelion and the YF-21 AVF "Omega One" – with a more automotive feel, rather than an aeronautical bent.

Druen, on the other hand, was just as impressive for the simple fact that he looked so life-like. Were it not for the slight whirring that accompanied every step, many bystanders would have simply thought the creation to be an oddly armored dwarven warrior.

It was obvious that the crowds were not only suitably impressed with the entries – based on the cheering, they were growing to like them more and more with each step.

There were two individuals however that stood out among the crowds for their decidedly different reactions: Haroun and the red headed judge. The expression on the latter was completely neutral, giving away nothing at all, beyond a slight narrowing of the eyes, about what he may or may not be thinking. While the former looked pale and completely unnerved by the showing. Keiichi grinned and stepped forward as Kazuki-chan placed Druen on the ground. For once he was glad of all the stupid club promotions he'd been saddled into. If nothing else, they had given him the skills needed to work an eager crowd.

"Ladies and Gentlepersons. I would like to introduce you to Kazukiichiro, the first Multi-environmental Transforming Automated Transport." The crowd clapped enthusiastically.

"What can it do?" The red bearded gnome demanded. Keiichi's grin grew wider if at all possible.

"Kazuki-chan, what can you do?"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

If the METAT could blush it would have. Venting steam wasn't a bad thing, but the way the crowd laughed made the large sentient mecha shuffle nervously. Haroun and his companions were rolling on the ground laughing, while other hecklers were making crude jokes about farting golems.

"What else can you do, Kazuki-chan?" Keiichi called out confidently, ignoring the jibes and cat-calls from the crowd.

"_I can do…THIS!_"

With another, much smaller, leap the METAT began to rapidly change shape. Gone was the humanoid figure, and in its place was a large, tank treaded vehicle. Kazuki's engine revved powerfully as Keiichi ran across the field to jump into the driver's seat. Duncan and Druen weren't far behind him, buckling themselves into the passenger seats. Once everyone was seated, Keiichi took control and began putting the METAT through its paces.

Looking back on the events, Keiichi and Duncan felt somewhat grateful for Haroun Mostana's underhanded tactics. His traps, pitfalls, and the small hive of attack drones were unexpected challenges that added a bit of spice to the practiced routine. Kazuki-chan and Druen ate up the chance to show off for the gathered crowd.

The quartet eagerly tore up the hill towards the first obstical with the wind whipping through their hair, organic and metallic alike. The wet sandtrap seemed both inoccuous and safe at first, but that all changed when a buried explosive triggered prematurely at Kazuki's rumbling approach. The unexpected detonation had Duncan cursing up a storm, but Keiichi didn't slow or pause in the least. Kazuki-chan had been built to adapt and overcome any and all challenges, both anticipated and unforeseen. A quick shift of gears had the tank treads retracting, and the smaller track guides made room for four very large fans and a huge propeller at Kazuki-chan's aft. Keiichi engaged the fans pointing them down towards the ground to give them lift and then powered the propeller to push them forward. As the METAT navigated the minefield, Druen took the opportunity to safely detonate the mines. Keiichi wasn't sure how the Banpei Guardian was finding them, but chalked it up to Skuld's intervention again. Regardless of the how and why, Keiichi had to admit that the explosions made for a heart pounding show.

He'd have to thank Mostana after everything was said and done.

Once he was sure they were clear of the minefield, Keiichi engaged another lever prompting the fans and propellers to retract. Four spiked wheels replaced the fans and soon, they were tearing through the turf beyond the sand trap without breaking stride. In the background Keiichi could hear Sam giving a blow-by-blow description of the multi-purpose uses that the METAT had. Not only was it a method of travel, it was an agricultural tool as well.

The maneuverability course loomed before them as the topped another artificial hill. This test required Kazuki-chan to slalom through a small forest of tall iron posts in a rapid speed display of agility. Keiichi grinned and gunned Kazuki-chan's engine, well aware that Duncan hated this part the most. In answer to his father's desires the METAT gracefully swished and swerved at breakneck speeds, like a professional skier, through the first of the metallic columns to the cheers of the crowd. It wasn't until they had made it a third of the way through that Druen got another opportunity to show off.

Another explosion rocked the field ahead of them, and with a great creak and a groan, the heavy iron posts began falling in on themselves. The domino effect was expertly planned to block Kazuki-chan's progress, and had they been driving the Iron Horse there was little doubt that the demonstration would over. Duncan simply smiled and motioned for Druen to get to work. The mechanical dwarf jumped from his seat and calmly walked over to the toppled posts and, with a display of strength that awed the spectators, Druen pulled the half-ton pillars out of Kazuki-chan's way. The evidence of the crowd's murmuring and pointing made it clear that none of their Gondsmen could have performed the task alone. In fact it had taken six of the stout mechanical Gondsmen to carry and place just one of the posts.

It was here that Keiichi deviated from their original routine a bit. Once the way was clear, the Banpei Guardian motioned for the METAT to pull forward a little ways through the debris and stop. Keiichi and Duncan then hopped from the METAT and helped Druen attach a thick towing cable to a number of the posts, making a small train from three of the columns.

In no time at all Kazuki-chan began dragging the posts; slowly at first, but quickly began picking up speed again. He didn't match his previous speeds, but Keiichi was proud that his creation wasn't exactly plodding along either. Duncan took the opportunity to wave at Haroun smugly as they passed the judges' bleachers on the way to the water crossing. Keiichi could almost feel the hatred poinsoning the air as they approached the stone ramp leading into the small artificial pond. As soon as they rolled onto the ramp, the ground beneath them suddenly stopped being stone altogether, and the quartet found themselves mired deeply in a smelly, sticky, sludge. Without hesitating, Keiichi engaged another transformation, retracting the wheels and allowing Kazuki-chan's arms and legs to extend. With a winning grin, he looked at Duncan as the METAT lifted itself out of the mud and spider-walk to the water's edge. The crowds roared at the triumph.

Before they settled into the water, Keiichi deployed a balloon of puncture resistant fabric. The balloon filled rapidly, forming a floatation ring around Kazuki-chan's frame. The crowd bellowed with pleasure as the METAT sped around the small pond like an oversized, hyperactive, metallic duck.

They were in the home stretch now, and from the sounds of things they made a good showing of themselves. Duncan slapped Keiichi on the shoulder as they drew close to the opposing ramp. Yet, it wasn't until leaving the pond that their progress took a turn for the worst.

Kazuki-chan and Druen, being made of a number of different metals as they were, made excellent conductors. It was one of the only design flaws that Keiichi hadn't thought to work around. After all, how often would Kazukii-chan be out in a thunderstorm? The weakness was a matter of inexperience rather than true oversight, and Keiichi soon found himself regretting that lapse.

Kazuki rolled onto the ramp and was just clear of the water when Haroun's final treachery struck. The lightning trap was particularly cunning, and it was blindly tripped by Kazuki-chan's tank treads as he rolled out of the pond. The flash and boom was deafening, but it still wasn't as loud as Kazuki-chan's scream. Duncan and Keiichi joined him briefly as the electricity traveled up through the METAT's chasis.

Druen, while a good conductor, had been designed to circumvent Kazuki-chan's weakness. The important parts that allowed him both mobility and active thought were well insulated and that, more than anything else, saved the lives of his friends and creator. The Banpei Guardian worked quickly and shot a long metal cable from his forearm and into the earth beneath him and grounded himself, before he leapt from the back seat and clamped one metallic hand onto the under carriage of Kazuki-chan's frame, completing the circuit.

He drew the electricity to him and channeled it into the soil where it wouldn't harm anyone. Once the danger had passed, he gently pulled Duncan and Keiichi's stunned bodies from Kazuki-chan and laid them out on the grass. Once free, the METAT transformed into a "battloid" configuration and hovered protectively over his father and "Uncle Duncan" while he and Druen waited for help to arrive. Well meaning people rushed from the stands to check on the pair, but were brought up short by a very upset pair of mechanical defenders.

Druen had pulled a large shield from his back and produced his mammoth war hammer. The Banpei Guardian planted himself before the bodies, while the METAT's hands folded back into his forearms and were replaced by a screaming buzz saw and a wickedly spinning drill. Small amounts of electricity still coursed up and down their bodies as they set themselves to meet the charge of the crowd. A sense of protective anger hung in the air between the pair and the mob of concerned bystanders pulled to a stop well outside of their reach.

Sam, Ruthart, and the rest of Keiichi's and Duncan's supporters shoved and elbowed their way through the crowd until they were at the front. Sam wasted no time in running to her husband's side, but the others waited until Druen waved them forward. The injuries were serious, but after a few judicious healing spells from Sister Maerdith and Father Ellosin, Duncan and Keiichi were back on their feet.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Haroun Mostana was sick with envy as the demonstration played out before him. He had never had the dedication to make himself a Gondsman. And yet, in an obvious display of divine favor, Duncan Steelwater had somehow managed to create one in the limited amount of time he had after the fire destroyed his shop. As each trap was not only circumvented, but also soundly defeated with style and aplomb, Haroun began to realize that he'd been outclassed.

His fears of failure only grew as Morisato's talking abomination turned itself into a boat.

The Solar Cannon was a formidable weapon, but this…this thing…was something else entirely. Jealousy burned the remnants of his shattered pride as the gnome watched Morisato's invention make landfall. That resentment became sadistic glee as his trump card was played and seemed to be successful. He hoped one of them died – fried to a crisp by the electricity.

Mostana's satisfaction and hopes died as Steelwater's Gondsman defeated the lightning trap. Terror gripped Haroun's heart as his enemies were healed. What was he going to do? They would investigate the traps! There would be an inquisition! Gond's Anvil…there were spells that would be cast…spells that would inevitably lead the investigators back to him!

He needed to do something!

Need is the mother of invention, and as the desperate gnome cast about for a way to save himself, his eyes fell on the Solar Cannon. A "misfire" would obliterate the evidence and Mostana's enemies in one fell swoop! It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was all that the panicking priest could think of. There would obviously be consequences that followed but he was certain that he could spin them with a few promises and padded pockets. Haroun would have to act quickly to silence his sabotage crew though. If they couldn't prove anything, he couldn't be punished – and with no evidence or voices to speak against him, he would survive and reclaim any confidences he lost here today.

His stubby legs pumped hard towards the Solar Cannon and with all eyes on the spectacle of Morisato and Steelwater, it was child's play to sabotage his own creation. A little misdirection would sow the seeds of doubt and confusion. After all, if he were being "framed" for a crime he hadn't committed….

Haroun smiled devilishly and looked to make sure no one had seen his actions, before he smashed his head on firing mechanism to bloody his head. Unfortunately, he knocked himself senseless in the process and never got to see the outcome of his plan.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

The crowd wasn't sure what happened. The overall actions played out so quickly that few had a clear picture of the sequence of events. One moment Duncan was arguing with one of the judges, and the next he was yelling at Druen and Kazuki to shield the crowd while pointing to Mostana's massive Solar Cannon. Kazuki grabbed Druen and jumped, easily clearing the crowd and placing the pair in the firing path of the cannon as it began to glow and hum. The mob, upon seeing the danger they were in, did what mobs did best – it degenerated into a mindless mass of stampeding stupidity and blind panic.

Amidst the chaos, Keiichi could see Kazuki-chan lift Druen into the air. The Banpei Guardian brandished his tower shield in what many thought was a pathetic attempt to stave off the inevitable. That was all the thought that Keiichi had time for as he threw himself bodily across Sam and Maerdith, knocking them to the ground. There was a flash of light and a wave of force battered the crowd, but the expected heat never came.

Keiichi chanced a look at his mechanical son and the brave little Banpei Guardian. He could only smile as the ridiculously large shield with Skuld's rune on it, smoked and glowed. The ground before the pair was nothing more than scorched, boiling earth. Above and behind the motorized pair, Keiichi saw the majestically shimmering form of Noble Scarlet, Skuld's angel, pointing something towards the cannon. The weapon began to glow ominously again. Keiichi wasn't about to see if his mechanized son could survive another blast.

"KAZUKI-CHAN! TAKE OUT THAT CANNON!"

The METAT dropped Druen to the ground and shot forward at an incredible speed. With a mighty punch, the cannon's aim was redirected skyward and another blinding light lanced from the focusing crystal. Druen soon joined Kazuki-chan, and the pair didn't give the cannon another opportunity to fire. They systematically began tearing the cannon apart piece-by-piece, beginning with the focusing crystal. By the time they were finished, Mostana's creation was little more than a scrap heap. And to later rub copious amounts of salt in the Artificer's wounded pride, Druen saved him from being crushed as a giant piece of the cannon fell on the spot he'd been laying.

It was in the aftermath and confusion of the Solar Cannon's demise that the red bearded judge strode forward and angrily stabbed a finger at Noble Scarlet.

"YOU THERE!" The cute angle pointed to herself and raised an eyebrow. "YES YOU! TELL YOUR MISTRESS THAT SHE'S BEEN SUMMONED TO AUDIENCE WITH GOND!"

When Nobel didn't move, the bearded gnome stamped his foot, causing the ground to shake and tremble.

"NOW! YOU BRAINLESS PIECE OF FLUFF! BRING ME THE NORNS NOW!"

"And why would Gond summon a Norn, let alone all three, to Audience?"

Keiichi wanted to grin in spite of the frigid tone of Urd's sultry voice. He turned his eyes to the source of the voice and saw a wonderful sight. A familiar crone stood next to the focus of Keiichi's dreams, and beside Belldandy's peerless beauty was Skuld – all three were dressed for battle. Noble Scarlet peeked out from behind Skuld's armored shoulder, while Holy Bell and World of Elegance flanked their goddesses. Keiichi ran to Belldandy and kissed her passionately, trying to ignore the feeling of cold chain mail beneath his fingers and the spear shaft that pressed against his back. Kazuki-chan rumbled over and stood behind his father, as Keiichi joined the Norns in facing off against the red bearded gnome.

"You've over stepped your privileges!" The "gnome" stabbed a finger at Skuld.

"And how do you figure that?" Skuld demanded. "Your twisted little pawn was going to kill not only your people, but my servants as well! If you thought I was going to just sit back and let them die, then you're stupider than you look."

"Skuld." Belldandy's reproach was a token effort at best, but Skuld refused to amend her words.

The red bearded gnome's body began to shift and change, becoming more human with each passing moment. The small hammer at his waist grew with him, becoming a war hammer that just about equaled the menacing weapon that Skuld held in her hand. It was evident to all just who this being was, and almost everyone in attendance of the strange meeting fell to their knees in supplication or veneration to the God of Smiths. The only person that refused to kneel was Keiichi, which made Gond's teeth grind in anger.

"What servants?" Gond growled.

"That would be us, Wonderbringer."

Keiichi was surprised that Duncan had gathered the courage to speak, let alone stand. The fact that Kerden, Sam, and Druen stood at his back was even more surprising. Gond seemed both surprised and shaken by the admission.

"I KNEW IT!" One of Haroun Mostana's supporters cried out triumphantly as his friends did their best to revive their leader. The self-righteous gnome stabbed his finger at Duncan accusingly as Mostana was groggily pulled to his feet. "STEELWATER IS A HERETIC!"

The fool found himself silenced and bound by an absent-minded gesture from the Lord of Smiths. The red headed god watched Duncan and his companions join Keiichi and to his surprise, Skuld embraced each with open love and affection – even Druen. The goddess of the future held Samril Steelwater protectively and glared at the Wonderbringer. Duncan looked at the Smith Lord, not bothering to hide his feelings of betrayal.

"Why?" It was a simple question, but one that Gond was sure he didn't want to answer. "Why did ye forsake me and me kin, after all I've sacrificed in yer name?"

"He was afraid. He was afraid of the ideas that Keiichi might give you."

Urd's form shifted from the bent crone she had been, into a more mature version of her usual guise. The slinky, platinum, chainmail bra and black leather skirt did nothing but accentuate everything the goddess of the past had to offer. The glare Gond threw her way made Keiichi shiver.

"Gond fears nothing!" The Lord of Smiths boasted. "It was a test of faith – one that you failed Duncan Steelwater!"

"That is so lame!" Urd pointed a wicked looking handaxe in Gond's direction while clenching a deadly looking dagger in her other hand. "How can you live with yourself while hiding behind such a pathetically weak excuse? Don't pretend to blame this on your petitioner, Gond! I am the Empress of Days Long Past, The Lady of Memory! I can see through all of your lies!"

The crowd began to murmur behind Gond. Some of the more fervent of his faithful vocally jumped to his defense, while others seemed uncertain. The memories of the Time of Troubles were hard to forget and tales of godly hubris were still passed down. However, it had always been someone else's god whose ego damned them.

"It was you that failed Duncan Steelwater, not the other way around." Belldandy's voice, though quiet, cut through the murmuring with no trouble at all. "You saw the duplicitous heart of Haroun Mostana, yet you stood by while he ran rampant amongst your flock. This one servant has poisoned the faith of so many within your assembly, all in the name of wealth and influence. Was he the test of faith you speak of Gond? If so, then there have been many here that have suffered for their faith. Where was your blessing for them? What support from you did they receive?"

The crowd began to murmur again.

"Am I not here now?" The god of smiths waved his hands and those who had been duped by Mostana in the past were suddenly dressed in flowing silk robes and adorned with all manner of wealth. "Do I not bless them for their suffering and their loyalty?"

"Even now, you use poor Duncan for your own purposes." Belldandy shook her head sadly. "He suffered most of all for a test that was not even ment for him, and yet that suffering remains unanswered."

Gond scowled at the accusation and the sudden rise in doubt he was feeling build in his followers. The trouble was, the Norns were right. Mostana was the test he had placed within his flock – the serpent amongst the fruit so to speak. The truth of the matter was, Mostana wasn't Steelwater's test of faith, but one for Danactar the High Artificer. Danactar was meant to see the injustice of Mostana's abuse of Steelwater and act or the good of the church by instituting a new code of conduct for the clergy.

The question was, did he accept this chastisement from the Norns or give his worshippers a show of strength to rebuild their wavering confidence? One look at the trio firmly disabused him of the idea to resolve this with force. The Norns were the Keepers of Life and Fate for man and god alike. To confront them in combat was not a smart thing to do. Luckily, the choice was taken from him.

"You should be grateful that they stepped in to protect Keiichi Morisato, when you didn't Gond." The voice was earthy and when Gond spun to confront the newcomer, a very familiar badge of authority greeted him. It was hard to miss it since it was forcefully being pressed against his nose. "As it is, you've allowed things to become a right mess."

"Ki-chan!" Belldandy handed Keiichi her spear and embraced the Celestial Auditor in a warm hug.

"What are you doing here, Kihon'i?" Urd cocked her hips. "I thought you were going to be tied up with Bhalomor for another three or four centuries."

"Divine Intervention." The Celestial Auditor grinned. "Lord Ao bought my contract and hired me on as a consultant, but got upgraded to Personal Assistant for Lord Ao. As a neutral party with no real interests here in the Realms, I'm the ideal Voice."

"Reconstruction?" Urd raised an eyebrow.

"Something like that." The goddess stole a glance at Keiichi and grinned impishly.

"So, what's going on?" Skuld asked. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to remind Gond about a few of Ao's more recent decrees and the consequences of not taking them seriously."

Gond paled. It was a strange sight for the petitioners gathered to see their god looking nervous.

"You remember the Decree, don't you?" The goddess' voice changed, becoming deeper and more masculine. The weight of authority in her words brought mortal and god alike to their knees. "'DEATH SHALL NOT COME TO THEM THROUGH ANY INFLUENCE – DIRECTLY DIVINE, OR OTHERWISE. THEIR STAY WILL BE SHORT, THEREFORE ANY PERMANENT BINDINGS MUST TRAVEL WITH THEM WHEN THEY LEAVE. AND THE THREE ARE AGENTS UNTO THEMSELVES AND SHOULD BE AFFORDED THE APPROPRIATE RESPECT.'"

Gond was openly trembling now, and stealing glances at Keiichi.

"You do realize of course that," The Voice of Ao smirked. "…had Skuld not intervened, you would be in serious trouble right now. Shar and Kelemvor have already been reprimanded for ignoring the Decree."

"What happened?" Gond's voice squeaked.

"Shar lost the Shadow Weave and Kelemvor got his butt handed to him by Mystra's Eighth." Kihon'i smiled. "You're really lucky you know. Not only were you saved by Skuld-chan's timely intervention, Lord Ao is letting you off with a warning."

Gond, unmindful of the image he was giving his faithful, seemed to deflate with relief. Kihon'i smiled and turned her attention back to the Norns.

"Now then, since you three have started collecting a following, you've got an appointment at Cynosure."

"Registration and orientation?" Urd whined. Kihon'i nodded and grinned. "Fehk! I hate cross-dimensional paperwork!"

"Not to worry, sweet Urd. Things are still a little more…Medieval here."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better? There's no indoor plumbing and no television! You know what that means? I can't watch my soaps!" Urd groused. "And that's not the worst of it! Do you realize how long it's been since I've had to play the Crone? I hate playing the Crone!"

"If the shoe fits…." Skuld grinned impishly.

"Shut up Spore!" Urd began charging a spell and Skuld pulled a nasty looking gadget from out of thin air that pulsed ominously.

Keiichi winced and began looking for a place to hide. Whenever the pair fought, Keiichi was inevitably the one at ground zero. To his relief, Belldandy stepped in and literally diffused the pending fight with nothing more than a frown.

"We are not at home, Sisters." She chided, gesturing at the mixed crowd gathered around them. "Behave yourselves."

Urd and Skuld nodded sheepishly and stepped into the background as Belldandy turned her attention back to Kihon'i.

"I apologize for my sisters, Voice of Ao." Her demeanor was formal and filled with the proper respect. "We, the Sisters Fate, will abide by all the Laws and Decrees set down by Lord Ao."

"Apology accepted, Verthandi Life Weaver. Your vow will be recognized and honored in good time. For now, let me be the first to welcome the Queen of Present Needs to Toril." Kihon'i bowed deeply. Belldandy returned the gesture with equal respect.

"On behalf of the Norns, I thank you."

Keiichi was ecstatic at the invitation being extended. If he understood everything correctly, Belldandy was able to be here now! She wouldn't be so far away! He looked between Duncan and the new goddess, and couldn't keep the grin off of his face.

"Don't get any ideas, Mr. Morisato." The Celestial Auditor's serious countenance destroyed his good mood. "Just because your Soul Mate has permission to be here, doesn't mean that she will be at your beck and call. She and her sisters will have work of their own to do. In order for her to stay here, she and her sisters are going to have to cultivate their own following. If anything, your Trials just got even harder."

Keiichi looked at Belldandy with longing and saw it mirrored there in her eyes.

"Now then, Gond. If I'm not mistaken, you have a contest to judge."

The Celestial Auditor stepped back and pulled Urd aside and began some long overdue gossiping. The Norn of the Past squealed happily and started clapping at something that the Voice of Ao had said, but quieted immediately as Belldandy looked her way. Keiichi shook his head and watched Skuld step behind Duncan, Sam, and Kerden. He wasn't left alone either. Belldandy drifted over to her love and threaded her fingers with his, as Gond strode over to them.

"Duncan Steelwater. Haroun Mostana. Keiichi Morisato. Stand forth to be judged." Gond's voice echoed and a bit of his Divine Mantle pushed to the fore, causing the trio to fall to their knees.

Up until this moment the whole exchange had seemed fairly…well, Keiichi supposed "mortal" was the only word for it. Later, upon pondering the events of this day, Keiichi would wonder why the deities decided not to be more "godly" in front of the gathered crowds. Those questions were for later though; presently, all that he understood was that something had changed in Gond's approach. He seemed infinitely bigger than he had a moment before. It was exactly like the time, not so long ago, that Skuld had put on her "professional" hat.

"Your wonders were impressive." Keiichi chanced a glance back to Kazuki-chan, and grinned at the sight of Belldandy holding one of his mechanical son's large metallic fingers. "Each, in its own right, set a standard to be aspired to."

Gond looked at Keiichi pointedly, and the young man shivered as he felt his soul being examined. He felt small and uncertain as a tiny portion of the god's power came into play – not as tiny as the Norns made him feel, but it was close enough. Had he been able to look, he would have seen his companions experiencing the same. Gond retracted his presence and gave them time to compose themselves before continuing. Duncan and Haroun had tears running down their faces, but their expressions were nothing alike. Duncan seemed extremely confused and uncertain, while Mostana's face was filled with abject terror.

"Standard or no, I see that I have been remiss in teaching my children. Herein is a new lesson for my faithful: Creation alone is not grounds for greatness. Intent and application must be taken into consideration as well. Thus, today I judge in accordance to the rationale behind each of these creations, and let those judged be held accountable for their intent."

Gond looked out on the gathered congregation and let a little more of his divinity spill forth. At the end of his display, there was no doubt that this was the Wonderbringer standing in judgment.

"Keiichi Morisato, your wonder is, by far, beyond anything Toril has ever seen. The making of golems, and the animation of such, have been known for thousands of years. Golem Masters have created majestic fabrications. They have bound souls to their creations and even given them the semblance of life. Yet never, in the history of Toril, has there been a golem such as Kazukiichiro. He is truly your son – a product of blood, brought forth through your love and your spirit. He is unique, in that he has the agency to live as he desires. He was not meant to be commanded, but to have the freedom to explore all that life has to offer."

Keiichi looked back at Kazuki-chan and smiled proudly. Belldandy beamed up at the METAT and patted his massive metal hand affectionately.

"Your creation was not brought into this world for petty reasons. You were driven, not only by the love and gratitude you had for your friend, but also for the benefit of the world around you. Kazukiichiro was to be your companion and champion in this world, and his design reflects that. His usefulness is not tied to any one task. You gave him the abilities to become what he needs and desires to be. For that, I name you the winner of this challenge."

Most of the crowd roared with pleasure, the Norns and his friends chief among them. Gond smiled indulgently and held up his hand for silence. The crowd obliged and the god looked at the Celestial Auditor nervously.

"The charge of being a heretical scourge to the people of Gond is rescinded. For your achievements, you have not only my respect, but also my admiration. You have taught us all a valuable lesson in loyalty and responsibility. As such, I name you a friend of the church and bless you to find sanctuary and aid in all of my houses should you need it." He reached into his robes and pulled out a modest sized, golden medallion and pressed it into Keiichi's hands. "Show this to any of my clergy, and your needs shall be met. All that I ask is that you share some of your wisdom and knowledge wherever you stay, so that all may benefit."

Keiichi was totally blown out of the water by the blessing, and could only nod in shock. The god moved on to the next in line without any hesitation.

"Duncan Steelwater. For the charge of heresy, I judge you…guilty." The crowd began to murmur, some in anger and others in satisfaction. Haroun Mostana looked positively ecstatic. "You have forsaken your vows to me and willingly turned from the guidance of the church. You have taken up another faith and, as such, I excommunicate you until you repent your decision and renew your vows. It is my hope that you will find it within your heart to return to us. Should you do so, your dedication and sacrifice will be rewarded."

Duncan looked up at his former god, and the expression of betrayal was plain.

"No."

"No?" The Lord of Smiths echoed. "Are you certain?"

"No, Great Wonderbringer. I know what I'm about." Duncan looked back at Skuld and Sam. Both smiled at the dwarf encouragingly. "I gave ye me love and faith, and was repaid with treachery. My place and heart belong to the Goddess of Moments to Come. She heard me when ye would not. She succored me and mine, when ye failed us. I will not repay her kindness with treason."

Duncan stood and walked to Skuld and Sam, and was immediately smothered in welcoming hugs. Gond looked torn between anger and despair. Keiichi knew he was wrong, and knew that the god understood his failure as well. Gond had failed the dwarf, but it was obvious from the deity's expression that a god did not apologize. Apparently, it just wasn't done. The very idea that a god owed a petitioner an act of contrition was repugnant, regardless of circumstance. Keiichi shook his head as he watched the Smith Lord pondering. It was evident that the Wonderbringer wasn't sure how he should proceed. He was in an obvious pickle; the disrespect shown to him couldn't be ignored – no matter how justified it might have seemed. Keiichi could see that Gond was going to make an example of Duncan, before the dwarf's ideas poisoned his community any further. The sad thing was, Gond was going to spread Duncan's poison further and faster than the dwarf ever could.

"You deny my mercy, Duncan Steelwater. You deny my faith. Such cannot and will not be tolerated in Lantan." The god looked to his High Artificer and motioned the elderly gnome forward. Danactar stumbled from his place in his haste to obey and knelt before his god. "Let the heretic's name be stricken from the roles of the church forever. Though he is not an enemy, neither is he our ally. Let him, and any who would follow his example, rely on this new goddess for their sustenance."

Keiichi, along with a number of others gasped. Gond might as well have banished Duncan, Kerden, and in no small way – Bertrold and Ruthart, from the sanctuary of Lantan. There was no way that they would ever be able to eek out a living on the island now. The community wouldn't support them. Many of the citizens and faithful of Highden stared at the god in disbelief, a great deal of their expressions mirrored Duncan's earlier sense of betrayal. These people were friends and family, but now they were paraiah – spiritual leapers that would be forever shunned.

"I can't believe you!" Skuld's voice rose above the troubled murmuring. "You sorry sack of…!" Skuld continued venting her thoughts on what she thought Gond was and what he could do with himself, heedless of the fact that Urd had covered her mouth.

Her hammer was out and cocked, ready to swing at the Smith God's thick skull. Had it not been for Belldandy and Kazuki-chan, a holy war might have broken out then and there. Keiichi thought it still might, considering the long string of explicatives that were escaping Urd's hand. He was both shocked and surprised that Skuld knew of and could invent some of the muffled phrases that were slipping through Urd's fingers. Belldandy was blushing furiously and Urd…Urd wasn't sure whether to be proud of her baby sister, or to take notes.

When all was said and done Belldandy silenced Skuld with a very serious frown, and once the goddess of the future had gained enough control she was released. Although, Kazuki-chan did hover close by just in case.

"I must apologize for my sister, Lord Gond. Her heart is large and her Mercy is larger still."

Keiichi rubbed a phantom knot on his head and wondered, if that was the effects of her Mercy, what Skuld's Justice felt like. He was glad he didn't know.

"Your Justice is yours to extend as you see fit." Belldandy continued. She veritably floated over to the gathering of confused and upset Gondar. She knelt before a small halfling girl and caressed her cheek lovingly. "Yet Justice, upheld without Mercy is tyranny, Lord Gond. Surely you can see this?"

"All I see, Lady of Moments, is that you and your sisters are sticking your noses where they do not belong." Gond growled. "I will not be told how to reward and punish those that have declared themselves to my service. They are mine, and will serve me as I see fit. I will reward them, according to their service, as I see fit."

Belldandy shook her head sadly.

"They are not yours, Lord Gond." She stood from the halfling girl and cupped the cheek of an old man standing nearby. "They are their own."

A tension in the man's face seemed to ease and his stooped body stood straighter and stronger than it had a moment before. She kissed his brow and smoothed what little hair he had left affectionately.

"Their agency is immutable, and it is that precious gift that they give to ones such as we. It must be honored, nurtured, and loved. We, as their gods and goddesses, have a greater responsibility to them for this gift. When they are downtrodden, we must champion them. When they are attacked, we must defend them. And when they falter, it is our duty to forgive and teach them where they erred – so that they might grow and progress. To do anything less is an injustice that cannot, and should not be forgiven."

"You will not speak to the Wonderbringer so callously!" Haroun Mostana leapt to his feet, nearly frothing at the mouth. Keiichi could see the madness take root behind the gnome's eyes, and moved to block his progress. The need to protect Belldandy, even after he remembered that she really didn't need it, was overwhelming.

"Is it callous to speak the Truth, Haroun Mostana?" Belldandy cocked her head to the side innocently. She looked to Gond pointedly. "Your servant tries to redeem himself in your eyes, Lord Gond. And as he does, proves my point better than mere words can convey."

She looked out over the gathered congregation and smiled. It was like the dawn after a long and dreary night. Gond's face could have cooked an egg for all of the hot anger the god was feeling.

"Divinity and mortality are tied to each other. One cannot survive without the other."

"YOU WILL BE SILENT!"

Gond's avatar grew to tower menacingly over Belldandy. Keiichi gathered his courage and stood his ground as her defender before the angered god. Kazuki-chan followed his father's lead and took on an aggressively defensive position to Keiichi's right. The young man looked between his mechanical offspring and the god, and knew that the Lord of Smiths could squash them both like bugs. In spite of that knowledge, Keiichi stood his ground defiantly. There was no way in Hell that Keiichi was going to let his Love stand alone before the angry deity. He felt Skuld position herself on the other side of Kazukiichiro and could almost sense the cocky defiance that laced her words.

"Why should she?" Skuld sneered sweetly. "Are you afraid that your followers are going to finally see through you, maybe start thinking for themselves and realize that you're really a pompous and selfish ass that could care less about their needs and desires?"

"You will be silent, Norn, or I will silence you!" Gond's avatar summoned a set of banded armor around himself and brandished his hammer threateningly.

"The cat's already out of the bag, Gond. You might as well accept it." Urd examined her nails disinterestedly, ignoring the blustering god. "Swallow your pride and move on. The only omnipotent and omniscient being in this branch of Existence is Lord Ao. Mistakes, while not common among the gods…"

Keiichi snorted earning himself a glare from the Norn of the Past.

"…As I was saying – while not common, they still happen. Accept the fact that you wronged Duncan Steelwater and make amends, before it's too late."

"I will not! Steelwater pledged himself to me! He is mine to do with as I please! They are all mine, to live and die at my whim! I am their god, and they are my hands in this world, creating for my pleasure!"

The words, spoken in anger, sent a chill through the gathered crowd. There was no love or appreciation in Gond's tone, only petulant anger. Gond, sensing the sudden shift in the demeanor of his faithful, turned to face them. His fiery anger sent a wave of terror through the Gondar.

"You are mine! Do you hear me? MINE!" His voice thundered, causing the ground to tremble and rock. Many within the gathering immediately fell to their knees and began begging their god's forgiveness for their doubts. It was a sickening display for Keiichi, one that made him turn his head in time to see Kihon'i walking forward. Gond's declarations fell silent at her approach, and everyone gathered was quite shocked when she hauled back and slapped him.

"Did the Time of Troubles mean nothing to you?" Her voice was quiet, yet still held more power and authority than Gond's screaming. Urd closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.

"He sealed himself away here on Lantan and spent his days building stuff, while everyone pampered him. I'd be surprised if the jerk learned anything at all."

The Celestial Auditor shook her head in disgust.

"This is your last and only warning, Wonderbringer. If you don't reevaluate your relationship with your supplicants, I'll haul you before Lord Ao myself. He's already stripped one pompous, self-serving idiot of a portion of her influence. I've no doubt that I can present him with another worthy of such attention."

Kihon'i turned her attention to the Gondar and spread her arms wide.

"You have been wronged this day. Your faith demeaned and your trust abused. In the name of Lord Ao, God of Gods, I hereby release you from your service to Gond the Wonderbringer. I dissolve all pacts and all bonds to this being. You are free to serve whom you will, how you will."

She pointed to the Norns and, surprisingly enough, to Keiichi. The young man shifted nervously and tried not to look uncomfortable.

"See these worthies, and know that they will honor your love and dedication. If you would have them, they will not lead you astray."

The Norns bowed deeply to the congregation and Keiichi reluctantly followed suit. In a display that rocked the community, one non-gnome petitioner after another took their holy symbols and tossed it in the dirt at Gond's feet. Some of the gnomes, even those ranked highly among the faithful, followed the example of these first few. Sides quickly polarized, and Keiichi was surprised when Ruthart came to stand before him.

"I'm not a god, Ruthart." He said honestly. Ruthart smiled benignly and knelt before the young man.

"Maybe not yet, Lord Keiichi. But someday, when your quest is done, you will be. Of that, I have no doubt." A handful of others, seeing Ruthart's example drifted cautiously towards the pair.

"Why do you kneel before this man?" An elderly gnome asked. Ruthart looked up at the old gnome and smiled even more.

"This is no mere man. He is a man who will become a god. I have seen his miracles and know his heart is pure." Ruthart looked back at Keiichi with open adoration. "I have learned more and done more in his service, than I ever did under Gond. He named me friend and I have seen his dedication to those he calls friend. Thus, I freely pledge myself to him, with only the hope that he will let me stay near him to share his journey and to learn at his feet."

Keiichi blushed and hurriedly lifted the young gnome to his feet.

"I am no god. I'm trying to make myself worthy of her love." Keiichi protested, motioning to Belldandy. The beautiful goddess was at the center of a huge crowd of mixed races. "If that means I have to become a god someday, then that is what I will do. But I expect that day to be a long way off yet."

"If we follow you, will you protect us?" A young human woman asked.

"Well…of course! I mean I'd rather you not follow me at all, but if you do I'll do my best to take care of you." Keiichi scratched the back of his neck.

"Will you teach us how you built your golem?" Another gnome asked eagerly.

"I can show you how I did it, but Kazukiichiro is special. I doubt that I could re-create him, let alone teach you how to do it yourself." The gnome's eager expression faltered and Ruthart quickly stepped in to appease the handful that had gathered nearby.

"Kazukiichiro is unique. But that is not all Lord Keiichi can teach us! I have seen him streamline a forge and create materials that open a whole new world of opportunities! You've seen his inventions! Think of the impact we can have on the world around us! His technology is a magic all of its own, and his name will be synonymous with progress and innovation in a way that Gond's never was!"

"How can you be so sure?" The old gnome demanded.

"It's already happening!" Ruthart countered. "What news have we heard from the markets in Waterdeep and Amn? His name is lauded for his creations. His inventions do more than kill! They offer comfort and they build up rather then destroy. How many of Gond's creations can say the same?"

"It seems that his golem did a fair amount of destruction today." The old gnome pointed to the cannon with a frown.

"To save lives! What other purpose did Mostana's 'Solar Cannon' serve, beyond a weapon of death? Kazukiichiro destroyed the cannon in order to preserve our lives – yours included Master Dunwater. Can you deny that?"

The older gnome shook his head.

"Lord Keiichi helped Master Steelwater when the rest of the community mocked him. He not only made the Iron Horse work, he made it work better! He has named me friend, and I honor that by pledging myself to him. He might be a man today, but I look to the future when he will shed his mortality and become something more. If I follow him and help him in his quest, what will I become by virtue of being at his side and sharing his burdens?"

"Are you saying you want to become a god, Ruthart Gambool?" The old gnome accused.

"Of course not!" The young gnome protested. "I'm saying I want to be a better person! I want to be someone that helps make this world a better place! I thought that the path to that goal was through Gond, but it wasn't. Gond doesn't care about our dreams, or us for that matter. We've seen that already. I've seen the type of person that Lord Keiichi is, and I want to be like him. Which would you prefer? A god who uses you to further his own ends, or a friend that will walk with you and help you realize your dreams?"

The small crowd looked at Keiichi, who in turn was looking at Ruthart with a slack jaw. The young man sought out Belldandy and found her smiling at him encouragingly. She blew him a kiss and then turned to Kazuki-chan, motioning the METAT over to her.

"Is he telling the truth, Lad?" The old gnome asked bluntly. "Will you walk with an old gnome and help him realize his dreams?"

Keiichi weighed the gnome and chose his words carefully.

"If it is within my power and if your goals won't hurt others, then I will do everything I can to see your dreams become a reality." He smiled and placed his hands on the elder's shoulders. "As for walking with you…I'm always looking to make new friends."

"That's all I needed to hear, Lad." The old gnome patted Keiichi's hand. "If you'll have me, then I'll follow you for however long my body allows me."

"I would be honored to have you Mister…." Keiichi offered the gnome his hand and was surprised at the strength in the old codger's grip.

"Owan Dunwater, Lord Keiichi."

Keiichi nodded.

"Just call me Keiichi, Owan. I'm not a lord."

"Not yet, Lad." Owan grinned. "Not yet, but soon."

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Arvandor

Mystra watched the scrying pool alongside her fellow gods and goddesses. Members of the Seldarine were present at Arvandor's Looking Pool, watching Ranma's fragmented journey with mixed pleasure. Sehanine and Hanali cooed over Ranma's female form as she integrated herself into the day-to-day activities of the Temple of Stars. Erevan Ilesere, the elven god of mischief, and Labelas Enoreth, the Coronal's Sage, were drying tears and clutching their sides at the sight of poor, poor Elminster and little Ranma Neko. Corellon and Selune did not share their mirth, as they watched the male Ranma's battle with the orc war band play itself out again.

Mystra took it all in and let the tears flow at the suffering of her dearly beloved friend. With a snarl of hatred towards Shar and healthy dose of wild magic that left both Erevan and Labelas purple with orange pinstripes, the goddess of magic spun and stalked away from the pool, intent on doing she knew not what. She found her way barred by concerned Azuth and a very nervous Savras.

"Where do you intend to go, Lady Mystra?" Azuth's voice was cool and even, in spite of his concern.

"My business is my own, Spell Maker." She growled. "Stand aside that I might be about it!"

"With all love and respect, Great Lady, we cannot do that." Savras cringed as Mystra's fiery gaze settled on him.

"Cannot, or will not Seer?" Mystra's tone was volatile at best. Everyone else in the pool's grove could feel her ire rising.

"Action in favor of the Weavebender or against Shar will have disastrous results for the Weave." Azuth cautioned. "You must see that."

Mystra stepped back and searched the ebb and flow of Toril's magic and saw the imbalance almost immediately. In places, such as the City of Shade, the Underdark, and Thay, the Weave had constricted to a trickle. Other places, such as Aglarond, Daerlun, and (surprisingly enough) Halruaa were all experiencing a magical renaissance – especially in the intuitive disciplines like sorcery. Everything was just as unsettled as Mystra felt.

"This love you hold, as pure and noble as it is, cannot be." Savras ventured, gaining courage from Azuth's bold logic. "At least not until the Weavebender has grown into his power and accepted his station. His mortality and the imbalances it brings with it, will continue to taint you and the Weave until the very fabric of Magic itself is unraveled."

Mystra glowered at the god of seers and then turned her attention to Selune. Hope was evident in her eyes, and the desperate emotion was broadcast to all in attendance. Many looked away, unable to watch the goddess of magic's heartbreak. Love was such a rare emotion. True love was something miraculous, even to the gods. It was evident to any who cared to look that Mystra was deeply in love with this fledgling deity.

"Can you not see how much he has already changed you?" Azuth asked pointedly. "A year gone, your perspective was greater than it is today. Magic was becoming balanced again and you had put aside the memories of your humanity."

"They are right to be concerned, my daughter." Selune's matronly voice was filled with understanding and warmth. "That is not to say that you cannot love him. You will just have to find a new way to do so. One that will not put all of Creation at risk."

Mystra sighed and felt her heart twist in her breast. Their reasoning was sound and their logic totally without flaw. Should she follow her heart to Ranma, the Weave would suffer. It had taken her great effort to finally restore a semblance of normalcy to the Weave after the Time of Troubles, and even there she hadn't fixed everything yet. Who could say what would happen if she intervened on Ranma's behalf at such a crucial juncture in his development?

She could.

He would become dependant on her, and her ideas would unduly influence his sphere causing magic to stagnate. There were other, darker, possibilities as well. But at the moment, the goddess of mysteries was having a hard time seeing open warfare between the magical pantheon and Shar as a bad thing. Still, such a course might cause others to side with the goddess of loss, which would inevitably lead to open warfare between the gods in a way that would make the Time of Troubles seem pleasant.

That would not be a good thing.

"What would you suggest?" She sighed in defeat. Ao's blood, her heart ached!

Selune waved her hand over the pool, changing the view to an image of a sleeping young woman in a carriage.

"You've an eighth daughter with a great capacity to love. Could she not carry this part of you, as you have entrusted your other daughters to do?"

"Think also of the Weavebender's intentions." Azuth placed a strong hand on Mystra's shoulder. "He has every desire of forsaking his godhood. Given the chance, would he stay here with you or return to his own world?"

"He doesn't know how I feel for him!" Mystra protested.

"Do you really think that would make a difference in the end?" Azuth's quiet bluntness cut like a very sharp sword, but she couldn't fault his cold logic.

Mystra, more than anyone else knew that, love or no love, Ranma would not forsake his honor. He would indeed return to his world, if only to resolve the conflict on his conscience. Still, a little more certainty before commiting herself to a set course would not be remiss. Ranma had done a wonderful job at surprising her thus far, and she wouldn't put it past him to pull another unexpected move on her. She looked to Savras expectantly. True, she had the power to look herself, but at the moment she lacked the courage. The Divine Seer closed his many eyes and shook his head in frustration.

"The Wild Horse bends probability like grass in a strong wind. There are many paths and choices he could make, but they are just as dependent on the choices you and others make. I cannot give you a stronger answer than that Lady of Mysteries."

Mystra nodded. It was more open ended than she liked, but the answer didn't surprise her one bit. For all the Order he tried to maintain within himself, Chaos danced around Ranma like an excitable puppy. It would be next to impossible to predict his course…as it had been since the godling had first arrived here. Perhaps he would return to his world, knowing of her love. If he did, it might inspire him not to forsake Toril altogether. One way or another, she would have to make her feelings for him plain.

The goddess of magic nodded her head again and looked down at her youngest daughter. And if he did choose to return to Earth and remain then, at the very least, a part of her might well go with him. She looked to the other gods one last time before calmly leaving the pool's grove.

She had an appointment in Silverymoon to keep.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Lantan

Keiichi watched as the crowds finally began to disperse. The Lantanese government had gathered around the leadership of Gond's church and began debating heavily, while Gond looked on with mixed interest. Their discussions carried loudly as the government fought over the fate of those that had abandoned the Lord of Smiths in favor of Keiichi and the Norns. In the end, there was no real doubt what the outcome would be. Lantan was claimed by Gond, and his influence was deeply rooted.

The Council voted then and there, in the middle of the proving grounds. The majority passed the motion to exile all those that refused to worship Gond, and would subsequently close Lantan's borders to those not of the faith. Outnumbered and afraid, the minority faction joined those that would be driven from the Isles and found themselves welcomed warmly by the Norns. The only thing that kept the Gondar from degenerating into a vicious mob, were the majestic forms of the goddesses and the clergy of Ohgma.

It was a sad sight that made Keiichi want to cry. Families were divided, lifelong friendships were sundered, and a community was destroyed. And he felt completely responsible for it. Had he not had Belldandy at his side, Keiichi knew that he would feel lost.

"This is my fault." He whispered. "I should have left the moment that Mostana challenged Duncan."

"You may have been the catalyst Beloved, but the choice was still theirs." Belldandy took his face in her hands and forced him to look her in the eyes. "Change is wrought with pain, but only we can make it suffering. Look at these wonderful people, my darling Keiichi. They are following their hearts."

"Yeah, but where are their hearts taking them?" He countered.

"That is where we, as those they have chosen to follow, come in. It is our duty…no, our honor to guide them to a greater happiness."

"How do I do this Bell? How do I become what you need…what they need?"

Belldandy leaned in and kissed him thoroughly. The sensation was, for lack of an appropriate word, heavenly. When she pulled away, her thumb trailed gently along his bottom lip.

"All journeys begin with one step. All great buildings are made with small bricks. You have within you a brightness of spirit, a power that is all you. This power will grow little upon little. It will be unlocked by all of your small choices. Let our love guide you, and let your love for those around you drive you. True love will sustain you in the darkness. It will uphold you, as it already has, during all of your challenges. Believe in that pure love and there is nothing that you cannot do."

"Am I worthy of that love?" Keiichi asked self-consciously. "I'm just a man…and a pretty pathetic one at that."

Belldandy, in response to his fears, kissed him with such passion and emotion that a wave of love spread out from them, washing over those nearby. When she broke the kiss both she and the love of her life were crying.

"Out of all beings throughout the vastness of Creation, I chose you. I find you worthy of me. If anything, it is I who feel unworthy of you." She smiled and looked down at his hands held tightly in her own. "After all the hardship you've had to face because of me, you still love me."

Keiichi pulled her to him, unable to find words to express himself. It was in this position that Kazuki-chan found them. The moment was broken, but the afterglow lingered.

"_Father?_"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

"Yes, Kazuki-chan?" Keiichi answered patiently.

"_We're all packed._"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

"Who told you to pack?" Keiichi asked. The METAT pointed a giant finger at Belldandy.

"_Mommy said that we were going on a trip._"

_**PHSSSSSH!**_

Keiichi grinned at the growing blush on Belldandy's cheeks.

"'Mommy' huh?" The Norn of the Present bit her lip self-consciously, but her fears were wiped away by a gentle kiss. "I really like the sound of that."

"I'll just bet you do, pervert." Skuld's voice hissed from behind the couple. Keiichi stiffened and waited for his punishment. To his wonder, Skuld merely punched him lightly in the arm.

"How else do expect them to make you 'Aunite Skuld' Squirt?" Urd's catty grin could have been described as "shameless" at best.

"'Auntie Skuld?'"

The Norn of the future looked up at Kazuki-chan and squealed with joy. It wasn't until she started mumbling about "upgrades" and "enhancements" that Keiichi started to really worry. Those concerns fell by the wayside as Duncan and Sam arrived in the company of Bertrold, Kerden, Ruthart, and Sister Maerdith. For the first time since coming to Toril, Keiichi felt as though he was among family. Looking between Belldandy and Kazuki-chan, that feeling grew even more. He had something to grow for. He had something to fight for. No matter what the future held for him, he knew what he wanted. He might not feel worthy of Belldandy's love, but he was going to do everything in his power to become worthy.

No matter how long it took.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

Silverymoon

Usagi woke in a strange, yet deliciously comfortable bed. The covers were warm and she found herself in a light cotton nightgown that she didn't remember putting on. Worrisome as that was, what concerned her more was the fact that she had no idea where she was. The last thing she remembered was Broan's body and crying on the mountainside.

She pulled the bed curtains aside and peeked out to better judge her situation. The room she found herself in was larger than both her old room and her parents' room back home; and as she looked around cautiously, she was surprised to see a beautiful woman, with dark, flowing hair and radiant skin, sitting near an open window. She wore a simple, yet elegantly cut, strapless indigo dress that seemed almost black in the glowing, golden light of evening. A filmy, web-like, shawl was wrapped around her shoulders and held together by a jeweled broach in the shape of an eight-pointed star. Usagi was enthralled by her beauty, and couldn't help but feel plain when compared to this woman's voluptuous magnificence.

"Are you feeling better, Usagi?" The woman turned away from the window and smiled at the girl peeking out from behind the bed curtains. Usagi only nodded. "That is good to know. I have had my own encounters with Kelemvor in the past and, while not all of them were pleasant, I am rather fond of the brute."

"You're talking about that man in the armor." Usagi ventured.

"Yes." The woman stepped away from the window and crossed the length of the room to stand before the bed. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

Usagi shook her head and pulled the drapes open, so that the woman could sit on the bed with her. Once she was settled, the woman took a moment to study Usagi intently leaving the young woman feeling very small. As cliché as it sounded, it was as if the woman was reading her soul or something.

"You've so much of your mother in you." The woman whispered. Usagi was surprised to see tears forming in her companion's eyes.

"My mother?"

"Yes. Elue was and yet remains a magnificent woman."

"Uhm…no offense, but I think you're mistaken." Usagi bit her lip, and smiled uncomfortably.

"Oh, and why do you say that?" The woman's smile went a long way to easing Usagi's growing nervousness.

"Well, it's just that I'm not from around here."

"That is certainly true." The woman nodded. "Azabu Juuban is a very long way from Silverymoon after all."

"How…? How do you know about that?" Usagi shifted, all her previous discomfort returning with a vengeance.

"You'd be surprised about the things that I know." The woman's smile became extremely mysterious, hinting at secrets, but revealing nothing. "Suffice it to say, Daughter, that I know your history better than you do."

Usagi felt her discomfort shoot through the roof.

"Who are you?" She asked. The woman smiled and pulled her silky black hair over one ear.

"I've many names, Usagi. Just as you are gaining many names." There was a twinkle of merriment in her eyes as she ticked off Usagi's titles one by one. "Serenity, Princess of the Moon Kingdom. Sailor Moon. Neo-Serenity. The Silver Princess. The Silver Lady. The Lady of Hemmerling. Kelemvor's Bane. Serenity Silverhand. The Eighth Star. Silvermaid."

Usagi frowned petulantly as each title was named. All she wanted was a name to call this woman, and here she was making fun of her.

"You will gain more as time moves forward, just as all my daughters have. Just as I have." The woman's grin softened. "But I did not answer your question did I?"

Usagi shook her head slowly.

"It is not my way to give away secrets and with good reason. One of my names is Lady of Mysteries, and others have been known to call me the One True Way. However, I am, and always shall favor being called Mother."

Usagi just looked at her blankly, uncertain of how to take the woman's loopy answer.

"What should _I_ call you?" She asked tentatively. This seemed to please the woman greatly.

"Very good! The key to unraveling mysteries is finding the correct questions to ask." The woman patted Usagi's knee. "While I wear this face, you may call me Midnight."

Usagi grinned skeptically.

"You have more than one face?"

"Of course child."

Usagi was astounded as the woman's form shimmered for a moment to become her mother Serenity. She shifted again to take on the appearance of an old gray-haired woman, and then again to become a silver-bearded man. The shifting continued on and on until Usagi started to get nauseous. At the end of it all a symbol, constituting eight stars orbiting a watery/fiery image, etched itself out of silver flame in the air above the bed, leaving the young woman disoriented and confused.

"I have as many faces as I need, in order to interact with those that worship me." The woman's voice was just as rich as before, but somehow, it was filled with even more mystery.

"You are a Kami." Usagi whispered. There was a feeling of benevolence backing the power before her, and she bowed her head to the mattress in reverence of the entity.

"Yes." It was such a simple and straightforward answer, yet it left Usagi hungering to know more.

"Did you bring me here?"

"No child."

"Can you send me home?" Usagi felt hope welling in her heart.

"I have the power to do this." The voice grew a bit sad. "Are you so anxious to leave this place?"

Usagi frowned at the loneliness in the voice coming from the flames.

"Yes and no." She admitted. "I've made a lot of new friends here, but I miss the friends I have back home too. It's not that I want to leave either – it's just that I have other responsibilities back home that need to be taken care of."

"Crystal Tokyo." The voice said matter-of-factly. "Not so unlike Alustriel's dream. You could learn much from your sister."

"Sister? I don't have any sisters. A bratty brother, yes…but sisters? No way." Usagi frowned. The symbol shimmered again, resuming the form and shape of Midnight.

"On the contrary, Usagi. You have seven sisters."

"How is that possible? My mother wasn't married before, and she would have said something about seven other daughters to me."

"I am not speaking of Ikuko Tsukino's daughters. I am talking about the children of Elue Shaundar, the woman you know as Serenity Silverhand, Queen of the Moon Kingdom."

"Queen Serenity had seven other daughters?"

"Yes. Before she was sent from this world, Elue housed my power for a time. During our brief co-existence, she became pregnant with eight children. Six were born from her on this world, the seventh was taken from the womb and given to another, and you – the eighth child, were taken with Elue when she was forced to leave this world."

Usagi looked pole-axed. It was like learning you were adopted…only worse.

"Why did she have to leave?"

"My power had weakened her body. It was just too much for one person to hold, and she grew sickly. Rather than lose her, I sent her away so that she could have a chance at living out the rest of her life. When she left, she took a piece of me with her in her womb and another that she crafted into a mighty artifact."

"The Guinzuisho." Usagi whispered.

"The same."

"So why tell me this?" Asked curiously. "I thought you didn't like to give away answers."

Midnight smiled and shrugged.

"If you are intent on leaving us, I would at least like you to know of your origins."

"And if I choose to stay for a while?"

"Then I will close my mouth and let you learn the rest on your own."

"You mean there's more?"

"There is always more, Daughter." Midnight winked at Usagi. "Always."

Usagi worried her lip and scratched her cheek.

"Do you still wish to leave Serenity?" Midnight asked.

"Someday…" She looked at the window hesitantly. "Perhaps."

"Then there is little doubt that someday, perhaps, you shall." Midnight's smile was warm and loving, and filled with unconditional acceptance. "For now I am content that the Eighth Mystery is returned to Faerun."

"Not another one!" Usagi rolled her eyes and flopped back on her pillows. Midnight laughed richly. After her laughter died down, she allowed herself to fall to the bed on her side and stared intently at Usagi again.

"What is it?" Usagi finally asked.

"I would like you to become one of my Chosen, as your sisters are."

"Does it require me to defend love and justice?"

Midnight laughed and shook her head.

"No, I am afraid those virtues belong to others." The dark-haired woman rolled onto her back and pillowed her head in the palms of her hands. "No. As my Chosen, you would house a portion of my power and act as a guardian of the Weave."

"The Weave?" Usagi tossed Midnight a pillow.

"The Essence of Magic in this world."

"This will affect my chances of going home won't it?" Usagi asked thoughtfully. Midnight surprised her by smiling.

"It was my hope that this would someday become your home."

"I don't mean to be rude or ungrateful, but I can't just abandon the Earth. People are counting on me! I have responsibilities and obligations." The goddess did not respond, instead she simply settled herself to listen to Usagi.

"I mean, I'm their Princess and we protect the whole planet." Usagi took a deep breath and began ticking off points on her fingers. "Then there's Crystal Tokyo and my Mom and Dad, and Shingo, and getting Minako and Makoto boyfriends, and Mamo-chan! Oh, MAN! Mamo-chan's got to be going nuts! We were destined to be together you see and now that I'm here…do you think he'll forget me? Will he find someone else?"

Midnight shrugged.

"The heart is a fickle thing, whether it beats in the chest of a man or a woman. What do you think will happen?"

"I…I don't know." Usagi could already feel the tears building in the corners of her eyes. "If he thought I was dead…if they thought I was dead…they would try to move on. And it's already been so long!" The tears were falling freely now and Usagi felt herself gathered into a warm, loving hug. She gave herself over to the urge to cry and wrapped her arms around Midnight's waist. "It was supposed to be different. Everything was perfectly fine! I was happy!"

"Destiny is as fickle as the heart Usagi. It is not a power or a force that dictates our lives. It is a journey that is made up of millions of tiny decisions day in and day out." Midnight rubbed the small of Usagi's back comfortingly. "If it is your desire to return to the place of your birth, I am certain that one day you shall. But the happiness that you seek to claim, may not await you."

"What should I do?" Usagi clutched the soft fabric of Midnight's dress in her fists.

"I cannot tell you, Daughter."

Midnight stroked Usagi's hair.

"I can counsel you. I can tell you what I would have you do, but what you should do, I cannot say. Agency is such a precious gift, and not even the Divinities have the power to thwart it." The goddess of magic pushed Usagi to arm's length and began to wipe her tears away. "The tasks that I will set before you won't be easy to bear, but neither will they be without merit."

"What types of things do you want me to do?" Usagi asked. Her voice seemed very small and distant.

"Only those things that you are best suited to. Love. Protect. Aid those who are in need. I will give you a part of myself to guard and nurture – a part of me that is very precious and dear. I would have you learn about magic in its many forms and to help it thrive in this world as your sisters do. Beyond that, there is only one other thing that I would have you do."

She waved her hand and a shimmering image of a very familiar stormy-eyed young man sprang to life between them.

"Ranma?" Usagi whispered. "I've dreamed about him!"

"Handsome fellow, isn't he?" Mystra smirked at Usagi's blush. "He is much like you in many ways: a noble heart and a loving soul, who lost in a world not his own. Torn from the life that he knew, he was brought here just as you were and now must endure the many changes that circumstance has thrown at him."

"He's trapped here too?"

"Yes. And I would have you help him to deal with his troubles."

"Why me?"

"Who better, Daughter?" Midnight's smile was wondrous to behold. It was open and loving, and so full of confidence. "You and he share much in common. He is alone on this world, as are you. He is tied to magic in ways not so unlike you. He has a desire to protect the weak and the innocent from harm. And most importantly, he needs a good friend."

"How would I find him? I mean the world is a pretty big place."

"Your paths will cross soon enough. All that I ask of you is to be his friend. Protect him from the bitterness that solitude brings, and give him a shoulder to lean on. Guard him from those that would exploit him and from those that would see him dead. Will you accept this first and most important task, Daughter?"

Usagi left the bed and walked to a set of balcony doors. She opened them after a moment and stepped out onto the terrace that overlooked a magnificent city. Thoughts and fears danced in her mind and in her heart, and she found herself wrestling with the familiar feelings of obligation and desire. Midnight came up behind her and Usagi felt the woman's strong arms wrap around her waist from behind.

"What troubles you, Daughter?"

"I'm scared." Usagi admitted.

"Of what?"

"Of not being able to see my friends and home again." She sighed and leaned her head back against the taller woman's chest. "Of being trapped here."

"Are you afraid that I will keep you here against your will?" Usagi frowned and turned her head away. "Look at me, Child."

Usagi turned and looked into the eyes of the goddess. Twin pools of stars looked back at her, and she felt herself falling into them.

"You are my Daughter. Flesh and spirit. I would never enslave you or hold you where you would not wish to be. If I did, I would not be worthy of your love, nor would I have the right to call myself Mother."

Usagi laid her head over Midnight's heart. It was odd, but there was no heart beat…only the undeniable warmth of love and acceptance. Usagi let herself bathe in the sensation, taking strength from it.

"I can't turn my back on someone who needs my help." She said at last. "But it feels like I'm betraying a sacred trust. It feels like I'm walking out on my friends."

"What would they have you do if they were here now?" Midnight whispered softly.

"They would want me to follow my heart."

"And what is your heart telling you to do?"

Usagi looked into the depths of Midnight's eyes again. Eternity stared back at her and she was overwhelmed at what she saw reflected there. As separate and superior as this entity was from her, Usagi saw herself in Midnight's eyes. She could not deny her kinship to the goddess, nor could she turn her back on that tie. There was no doubt that this was the path that she had to take. It would get her home.

She was certain of it.

But the price she would be forced to pay would be incalculable. Was she strong enough? Something she hadn't felt in ages bloomed in her heart and mind. Hope for the future and an unquenchable thirst for life filled her. She smiled brightly up at the woman and said the only thing that she could possibly say in that moment.

"I accept, Mother."

There had been few times in recorded history when the Mother of Magic had truly wept. Each could be counted on one human hand. Yet, each time she had, it had been for the faith and love so freely offered her by those she considered her children.

"You will be changed by this."

Usagi nodded bravely.

"It will break you and reshape you. You will weep for the mountain of pain you bear and cry out in ecstasy for the pleasure you will feel. You will become a new person, without losing who you were. Are you truly ready?"

Usagi bit her lip and looked away, but nodded her head nonetheless.

"Oh, my brave, devoted Daughter." Midnight's tears burst into tiny rivers of silver fire on her cheeks. "Know the love of thy Mother."

Her lips brushed Usagi's forehead and the world burst into a ball of incandescent flames – the flames of renaissance.

Usagi screamed and shot into the evening sky like a rocket. High over Silverymoon a new star exploded to life, heralding the rebirth of the eighth sister. From as far away as Mithril Hall, her advent was seen and recorded by the sages. A sense of love and peace washed over the lands surrounding Silverymoon. And in the dying light of day, the lame and infirm leapt from their sick beds, the beloved dead returned to life, and greater signs and wonders befell the Silver Marches. Yet those select few that were close enough to witness the fires of the small star, remembered one event with clarity: all could see a horse – white as the driven snow and as wild as the wind, dancing on its hind legs in the air around the Eighth Sister.

**(oo0/8/0oo)**

End Chapter 8


	11. Chapter 9

**************

Disclaimer:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

"Aah! Megami-sama" (or "Oh My Goddess!") was created by Fujishima

Kosuke, and is licensed to Kodansha and AnimEigo.

"Ranma 1/2" was created by Takahashi Rumiko, and is licensed to

Shogakukan Inc., Kitty, Fuji TV, and Viz Communications Inc.

"Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon" (or "Sailor Moon") was created by Takeuchi Naoko, and is licensed to Koudansha, TV Asahi, Toei Douga, and DIC Entertainment, L.P.

"Forgotten Realms" was created by TSR. Inc. and is owned by Wizards of the Coast.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks for sticking with me.

**Discrepancies in the chronology**: For those that care, I was poking around a good site (.com/portal/) a while ago and discovered some rather interesting tidbits that are skewing my chronology. The first is that the Silvermarches weren't declared an official nation until 1371 DR, while the novels _The Thousand Orcs_, and _The Lone Drow_, preceded this event by three years. For the intents and purposes of this story, the year will be 1369 DR, The Year of the Gauntlet, in order to correspond with the novels: _The Two Swords_ and _Silverfall: Stories of the Seven Sisters_.

Current timeline for this chapter is the end of Mirtul (May)/beginning of Kythorn (June). I hope this gives everyone a solid understanding of where we're at, and please consider any anomalies strictly AU from the cannon Forgotten Realms universe from here on out; especially any and all 4th Edition stuff.

Enjoy!

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Realms

Chapter Nine

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Lantan

"Are you ready Bell?"

Keiichi tensed at the sound of Urd's quiet voice. It wasn't that she was unwelcome, but the intrusion only hammered home the knowledge that this was another separation. He calmly stroked his love's hair as she clutched at him possessively.

"No, Sister. I am not."

Keiichi wasn't certain what it was about Toril, but he'd seen a new assertiveness in Belldandy's character that reminded him of their first meeting. Perhaps it was the primitiveness of the society they were in, or the more aggressive sensibilities of the world around them; whichever it was, Keiichi couldn't help but enjoy her possessiveness.

"I'll try and stall for another thirty minutes.…" He could hear the melancholy in Urd's voice and sighed. Belldandy mirrored his reaction perfectly.

"I'll be out shortly, Urd. Please tell everyone to ready themselves."

"Are you sure?"

Keiichi suppressed a snort of surprise when Belldandy rolled her eyes and glared at the tent flap across from them. It was so out of character for her that he could hardly believe his eyes. There was a nervous pause as the goddess of the present refused to answer.

"If you're sure, then…."

Bell refused to acknowledge anything else in favor of toying with the buttons of Keiichi's rather practical shirt. It didn't take long for Urd to get the hint, and Morisato tracked her progress from the tent until he was certain that she was gone. When the coast was clear, he gently lifted Bell's chin with a finger and lost himself for a time in her majestic eyes. The love and longing there were more obvious then it had ever been, and it took all of his will power not to kiss her. After a short battle he cursed himself for stupid and tossed his will out the window, drinking deeply from her lips in the most passionate kiss he could muster. It left a fire burning his belly and a pleasant tingly feeling in his fingertips. He was happy to note that Bell was more than a little breathless herself.

"Since I'm not going to get another chance at this for a long while," He smiled nervously and knelt before his goddess on one knee, pulling the ring that he and Duncan had spent the last week crafting from his pocket. "…I thought I might as well go for broke."

Belldandy's hand covered her mouth and tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

"I don't know how the gods go about proposing marriage to the ones they love, so I'll just stick to what I know." He coughed and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Bell-chan, will you be my wife?"

His answer was an arm full of weeping goddess, raining kisses all over his face and neck. In between each one, she would whisper an enthusiastic "Yes!" before continuing her sweet, sweet, assault. Things might have progressed much further, had it not been for the sudden fire beneath Keiichi's knee. He yelped and jumped up, bringing Belldandy with him, in time to see a message burning itself into the carpet at his feet. He gulped and took a deep breath, already knowing without reservation just who the message was from.

_Memo:_

_To: He who would wed my precious daughter._

_CC: Lord Ao, Interested Parties_

_Subject: Interview of Personal Worthiness_

_Mister Keiichi Morisato. It has come to Our attention that it is your desire to marry Our Daughter Belldandy, Norn of the Present, Goddess First Class, Unlimited License. Please make yourself available for an Interview of Personal Worthiness, at Cynosure on the day of Shieldmeet, in the Year of Wild Magic, 1372 by the Dale reckoning. Said interview is to be conducted by Myself, The Almighty along with His Majesty, Lord Ao, The Unknowable, and the Divine Auditor, Kihon'i of the Seven Veils._

_Please be prompt and dress accordingly._

_Best wishes and all Our love to you,_

_Me, Myself, and I Am_

Keiichi stared at the message burned into the rich weavings of the carpet and tried to keep the bile from rising in his throat. Two months. He had to find his way to wherever this Cynosure place was in less than two months for an interview with Belldandy's Father. He looked at Belldandy and smiled weakly at her beaming face. In light of that brilliance, he felt the fears driven back into the shadowy recesses of his soul. He knew that they would come back full force later, but for the moment he allowed himself the pleasure of her happiness. She allowed him to place the ring on her trembling finger, and he exulted at the way that her eyes were riveted to the ring. As far as he was concerned it was time well spent, even if it was a little too plain for someone as beautiful and special as his Belldandy.

He sighed again as the tent rattled, and winced as Skuld pushed her way through the tent flap dragging her older sister along behind her. Both sisters squee'd in shock and delight at the sight of Belldandy's ring, and soon enough Keiichi found his face pressed firmly between Urd's heavenly cleavage as she bounced up and down in celebration. He closed his eyes the best he could and tried to imagine that he was pillowed against Bell instead. The goofy grin on his face immediately tipped off Skuld's pervert radar, earning him a wicked kick to the shins followed up by a meaty whack to the noggin with her war hammer. As the darkness claimed him, he was happy, at the very least, to have had the opportunity to say a proper goodbye this time around.

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Silverymoon

Usagi dreamt. They weren't the usual dreams a sixteen year old girl was wont to have, nor were they the strange unsettling dreams she'd suffered since leaving Longsaddle. They were a melding of memories, both hers and those that belonged to others. The images and experiences sent her rocketing across time and space, breaking her apart and reshaping her. She relived her birth and the entirety of her life during the Silver Millennium. She felt the terror of Beryl's attack and the overwhelming grief of Endymion's death. She felt the magic of the Ginzuisho take hold of her soul and send it hurtling forward through time and space, until the abstract of conception pounded her spiritual senses.

She endured the discomfort and pain of her rebirth to Ikuko Tsukino and found herself weeping with joy at the happiness her new parents felt at her birth. She danced through her childhood, laughing and crying at herself as she grew. She winced at the pangs of jealousy she felt for Shingo as he stole the spotlight from her, and was ashamed for all the pettiness she'd forced on her friends.

That shame grew as she watched her tenure as Sailor Moon.

How many times had her stupidity endangered the lives of her friends and the lives of every sentient on Earth? How many times had her friends died for her? The weakness and selfishness of the young girl she had been turned her stomach. How much danger could they have avoided if she had been just a little more serious? How much personal suffering could she have sidestepped if she had stopped to take a good look at the big picture? Sure there were moments where she had shined, but that was more Serenity bleeding through than Usagi standing forth.

She would have wallowed in her self imposed humiliation had not the other memories pressed for her attention. They were alien and overwhelming. She felt herself born of conflict, and through her the magic of life sprang forth. She felt herself blessing the righteous and the selfless, alongside the profane and infamous. All that mattered to her was that the web of life continued to dance and grow. That was her end all, to promote the growth of the Weave. And then Karsus came…beloved son of magic that he was. He had been her pride, and she raised him higher than any other. Yet, in his hubris, he repaid her by trying to usurp her throne.

The pain of her death and subsequent rebirth was exquisite, boarding on ecstasy.

Her second incarnation was harder and more concerned with the preservation of her precious Weave than with the individual souls that professed her faith. That wasn't to say that she didn't love those that worshipped her. Elminster had risen during that time, and he redeemed what Karsus had betrayed. No, her love was carefully reserved for those truly worthy of it – those that loved the Art and the Weave as much as she. This, in and of itself, was what saved the whole of Toril when the Time of Troubles killed her second incarnation. If it had not been for those select few that she truly loved and cherished, she was certain the Weave would have torn the world asunder.

She rose again as the third, assuming the mantle as the new Mother of Magic, and all had been progressing well. The world had finally begun to heal, and magic was once again thriving. Shar had pulled a fast one with the Shadow Weave, and that had royally pissed her off to no end, but she was dealing with it. She was finding comfort with Azuth, but not the completion that she had always yearned for.

Then Ranma arrived, breathing life and excitement into everything. He had done something that no other petitioner had ever dared – he joined himself directly to the Weave. It wasn't the petty, analytical, memorization of spells – nor was it the self-possessed demands that some of her clergy had started to make in their prayers. With Ranma, it was a fundamental fusion that went beyond anything that she had ever dreamed. He became a true conduit for magic, without taking anything from it at all – he gave back everything that he took.

For that brief time they had been joined, he had given her something back; something that many of her followers had offered, but only a select few had ever successfully achieved. He had made good on the professions of love that so many of her followers proclaimed. Deep down, she had seen that he loved life and everything about it, good and bad – regardless of how he might grumble and complain.

Usagi's mind danced across the memories she'd gained of Ranma's life, embracing his moments of success and elation, and shying away from the multitude of pain he'd been forced to endure. He was nothing short of amazing. True, others had suffered more, but none had remained as "clean" as the young martial artist. She couldn't help but feel proud of his accomplishments, and be endeared to his numerous rough edges. He was truly a diamond in the rough – one that she couldn't help but love. That thought shocked and gave her pause. Didn't she love another?

Yes. The Prince of Earth. Endymion. Mamoru. Tuxedo Mask.

She loved him, as she loved so many others. Elminster Aumar. Khelben of the Blackstaff. Halaster the Mad. Azuth. Braen Starheart. The names and faces of many that had loved her, and yet loved her still, flashed before her mind's eye and warmed her heart. What was one more? Was true love not infinite?

Usagi, who was also Mystra, smiled at the epiphany. Her love transcended time and space, and was meant to be shared by many. But Ranma, who had touched her in ways that no other ever could, rose above them all. She would love him first and honor him above all the rest. Even now, she could feel him, split and confused though his soul was. His indomitable will was like a beacon in the darkness, and she found it impossible not to reach out to comfort him in his hour of need.

She stretched her spirit out to the three soul fragments and blanketed them with her love and affection. She wasn't expecting them to respond, much less in the way that they did. She screamed rapturously, embracing the sudden feedback in an attempt to prolong the experience for as long as possible. Had she known the consequences of this act, she wouldn't have cared. All that mattered was the sudden sense of need and belonging that she was experiencing.

**************

The Universal Law of Opposition is an immutable truth. It is a spiritual building block of Creation that all life, godly or mundane, must acknowledge. The physical embodiment of this Law in many realities is a being often named Murphy, or some obvious derivative there of.

The Universal Law of Opposition could be considered by many to be a keystone of reality; for without it, nothing could ever grow and progress. Stagnation would be the order of the day, and life would hold no purpose.

It is theorized, by scholars and theologians alike, the more opposition suffered in one's life will indelibly make the individual more powerful and godly. Some have been known to comment that we need opposition in our lives in order to overcome our own faults, in order to lift ourselves out of our natural imperfections. Others maintain that our opposition is karmic – the more we have in our lives is a direct result of the poor choices we've made in the past. Indelibly, we reap what we have sown.

There is truth in all of these ideals. Unfortunately, there is no greater will directing the Universal Law of Opposition…. There is no great puppet master pulling the strings or organizing our woes. The Law simply is, and it will be until Eternity has long since come and gone.

Ranma Saotome, all three of his current incarnations in Faerun, knew the Universal Law of Opposition intimately. If asked, the more cognizant, _human_, perception would say that he was a toy of the gods – as evidenced by all the crap Ranma was experiencing in their collective life. What the three avatars didn't know, and wouldn't come to discover for a very long time, was that Genma Saotome was a much greater bastard than they had originally thought.

Before Ranma was born, Genma trained beneath a human avatar of Perversion – a being named Happosai. During those hellish nine years that he and Soun had been enslaved to the vile beast, many priestesses, nuns, monks, husbands, and fathers took it upon themselves to curse the practitioners of the Musabetsu Kakuto Ryu for their sins and crimes against society. Happosai, being the intelligent and cunning letch that he was, found a way to shift the karmic injustice of his actions to his students long before he met up with Soun and Genma. Thus he saved himself quite a bit of grief, and rarely had to deal with the consequences of his dealings with the rest of the world. The powers of Heaven and Hell could do very little about this, beyond taking pot shots at the wrinkled old pervert from time to time when the opportunity rose. Patience was the name of the game for Justice and it knew that Happosai, like all mortals, would some day screw up and forget to renew his spell. When that happened, the avatar of Perversion would reap the hurricane of his depredations. Until then however, the students of the Masubetsu Kakuto Ryu would suffer for their master's indiscretions. Well, those that weren't smart enough to follow in Happosai's footsteps would suffer.

Soun Tendo had long ago shown his intelligence when he followed Genma Saotome into the wilds of Japan to learn martial arts. Even though he wasn't all that bright he did do something right in marrying a beautiful and intelligent woman. Still, soon after finding peace with his beloved wife, the weight of his karma came back to haunt him with a vengeance, stealing what little happiness he had come to build for himself. It broke him and stole from him the most noble and honorable parts of his soul.

But Genma…Genma was a very cunning individual. No one would accuse the pudgy man of being intelligent, but no one could dispute that he was a crafty S.O.B. He had learned early on to listen to and watch Happosai carefully. He learned the man's patterns and after training beneath the letch for over two years, Genma finally learned the secret to a care free lifestyle. It took quite a bit of planning and luck, but one night after getting his master smashed, Genma successfully stole the secrets of Karmic Freedom from Happosai's treasures.

The surprisingly simple spell was cast – albeit incorrectly.

The spell required more than one recipient in order to fulfill the requirements of Universal Law: the caster, the recipient, and an anchor to hold the curse in place. Soun and Genma were each other's anchors, but when Genma cast the spell there was no one available, beyond his sleeping training partner, to secure the magic. Since Soun was already burdened with Happosai's messes, and since Genma was a complete moron when it came to magic, the fool's first-born was named as the Karmic Sacrifice and, lacking any subsequent children as joint heirs of Karmic Justice, Ranma was shouldered the whole burden of the ritual.

One being wasn't meant to withstand the pressures of so much negative magic, therein Ranma tended to "bleed off" excess energy into the world around him from time to time. So, due to proximity, Genma wasn't able to escape his karma completely and others tended to suffer strange and unusual circumstances simply by having Ranma around.

From a certain perspective, this curse was Ranma's greatest blessing in disguise. Nietzsche had the right of it when he said: "That which does not kill us, makes us stronger." Ranma's father pressed his son into the Refiner's Fire, burning away the physical dross until nothing was left. Ranma wasn't perfect, but he was a pure soul. That in and of itself counted for a great deal in Heaven.

When he Ascended to the service of Ao all Karmic ties were severed, and Ranma was given a clean slate. It didn't really help his current situation here in Faerun all that much, but an invisible mountain was lifted from his shoulders all the same. Genma, and by association Soun Tendo, were in for a Karmic backlash of biblical proportions. Sadly, only two of his incarnations had the emotional ability to enjoy their new freedom.

Ranma-chan and Neko-Ranma were both effervescent by nature, but now their dispositions were positively sunny – much to the annoyance and fatigue of those involved with them. Ranma-kun, on the other hand, had become more stoic and focused since Shar had split him from his female half. In the two weeks since his battle with the Orcs and the subsequent burial of Maric, Ranma-kun had become a force of nature in keeping his promise to the dead elf. He was true to his word, tirelessly protecting and providing for Sefaril and her sister, and by extension the rest of the survivors of the attack, as if they were members of his own family. In the process of doing so, he inadvertently built a town around their needs.

Since none of the caravan seemed particularly ready to leave the safety of his company, a small community organized themselves with Ranma-kun as their hub. Due to the inhospitality of the geography, as well as the number of wounded that still needed time to mend, food and shelter became the first priorities to address. Winter was months away yet, but it would take the least wounded patient nine weeks to heal up enough to travel. By then it would be too late in the season to even think of traveling; this far north, winter came fast and the mountain passes would close even faster. Ranma-kun was looking into Chi-Healing but, even if he could successfully devise the techniques necessary to shorten their convalescence, the first heavy snows would still be upon them long before any of the more serious injuries were even healed halfway.

And so Ranma, not one to do things by half, had taken it upon himself to make sure that everyone was as comfortable and cared for in the only way that he knew how. The by product of his tireless work was a permanent settlement that the survivors had taken to calling Providence.

Food was easily hunted and gathered by the healthier members of the community. Late spring fruits and early summer vegetables weren't hard to find, and a number of wild wheat fields would be ready to harvest by midsummer. Hunting and fishing were plentiful, and between a number of the survivors and Ethalliandra's elven upbringing, there was no fear of going hungry when the snow started falling.

Ranma, in a display of insight and intelligence, even introduced the concept of a greenhouse in order to take advantage of year round farming. The idea was new and excited a great many people. The fact that they had Sefaril's magic to help them achieve their goal only made the community feel more industrious.

With the community fed, Ranma turned his attention to the next order of business – housing. It started off with a small shelter hut for Sefaril and the wounded at the base of Meric's tree. He overheard the pregnant woman openly worrying about her unborn child and silently wishing for her own place to stay with her sister Aelin, which pushed him to create another sturdy building in the shadow of the tree. An apprentice architect among the survivors, who had been on his way to Cormyr with his now deceased master, saw the efforts and pulled himself from his sick bed in his excitement.

After much discussion, young Ivulaire Bornesun convinced Ranma and the rest of the community's fledgling council to build in the branches of Meric's tree, both in honor of Meric and for the continued safety of the people. Sefaril, having visited some of the abandoned elven communities, and Ethalliandra, having lived in a tree community, thought the idea was a fitting tribute to Maric. The fallen elf had openly mourned the empty tree homes of his people, and wished more than anything that those communities could thrive again.

Thus it began.

The first building finished was a communal house that would later become an inn once the other homes were finished. Ranma raised five more trees around the hill, as monuments to people that had died from their wounds, and these trees were connected to Meric's by a series of magically shaped bridges made of joined branches. Elevators were used instead of stairs, and Sefaril, with the aid of her sister, warded the trees and homes against natural and magical fire in the event that an intelligent enemy tried to burn them from their homes.

The work was moving at an insanely rapid pace, mainly because Ranma didn't sleep any longer. He only ate one meal a day, generally with the rest of the community, and only at Sefaril's insistence. The rest of the time he busied himself working on the houses and his Art. It was his way of dealing with the emptiness he felt and the surreal oddity of his new status. Being divine, even as limited as he currently was, wrecked havoc on the young god's nerves. Thoughts were open to him and his senses had become so sharp that there were times he wanted nothing more than to lock himself in stone and never come back out. Amaterasu's retreat into the caves was something that Ranma could readily empathize with. Sadly, he had no one to bring him gifts or throw him a party to get his mind off the changes. So, he threw himself into his work and into his Art. Unfortunately, he couldn't escape everyone, even when he tried.

Ked and Ethalliandra made it a point to learn his schedule, and once they knew when he practiced they joined him. At first he did his best to ignore them; but over time he became more and more agitated with the glaring holes and poor habits he saw them building into their styles.

On the morning of their eighteenth day in Providence, Ranma decided to break them of their poor habits and set them on the right path. The beating was swift and brutal, but since then they had started improving by leaps and bounds under his watchful eye. After thinking on what had happened, he wasn't sure whether to be upset or impressed at their manipulations in getting him to take them on as students.

In the end it didn't really matter all that much. He made the choice to teach them and thus he was honor bound to see it through. He was sure that the couple was regretting the decision to learn from him though. Ranma wasn't his father, but he sure as hell wasn't gentle either. They were seeing rapid results in their skills, so there was no room for complaint – especially when Ranma rewarded such with even more grueling sessions. And even though he wouldn't come right out and say it, both could tell how proud he was of their achievements and those rare smiles he gave them made them work all that much harder for him. Ethalliandra was almost ready to advance to the aerial school. Ked would go a different route, probably a ground-based style Ranma-kun was building patterned off what little he knew of the Tendo School.

Having students was weird, but at the same time it helped him reconcile the need for worshippers. If he considered them to be disciples, rather than petitioners, it made it easier for him to stomach their whispered prayers. He could hear Ked and Ethalliandra calling on his name every night, and due to an impromptu visit from Sefaril's sister to their modest home, young Aelin had joined them in their worship.

She'd only been at it for three days now, but he could tell that her heart wasn't going to be dissuaded no matter how much pain he forced her to endure. What had begun as hero-worship, had grown into something completely different. Ranma-kun would find out tomorrow if she were truly serious about being his disciple. He'd make her his student if she had the potential. And if she didn't…well, he'd cross that bridge when he got there. Pretty soon he was going to have to build a proper dojo in order to keep their training up during the winter months. He wasn't going to let them slack off just because it was cold outside. But that project was going to have to wait a bit. At the moment he had other concerns weighing on his mind.

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, Ranma stood from the shingles of Sefaril's roof and looked to the southeast. Somewhere, out there beyond the horizon, was his other half. He did not know what she was doing, or if she even cared that they had been separated. He often wondered if she thought of him as much as he thought of her. Did she feel the emptiness he felt, or was she happy to be free of him? Was she looking for him even now, or had she been distracted by circumstance as he had been?

Ranma-kun looked to the shingle in his hands and sighed. In the end did it really matter? One way or another he would find her someday, and then they would be complete again. Time had little meaning in that equation; it was an inevitability. And once they were complete, Ranma would do everything in his power to make sure that Shar never did anything like this to anyone…ever again.

A sudden tsunami of love and affection washed over him from somewhere to the northwest, forcing him to his knees. The feeling was so raw and pure that he couldn't stop the tears from forming in his eyes. He knew who the author of the emotion was, at least partially. Mystra had left her mark on Ranma as much as he had left his on her, and the memory of their encounter was never far from his mind. Yet, this outpouring of love had something underscoring it…something that had touched him hesitantly and briefly in the not so distant past. It was a pure soul, as lost and heavy with duty as his own, that yearned to be loved and cherished. After knowing a lifetime of neglect, how could he not respond in kind?

Already he could feel his other half responding and, rather than being left out, he added his own desires to the returning wave of love and need. The emotions clashed for an instant, briefly fighting for supremacy, before merging to become one unified whole. Ranma-kun shuddered with pleasure as the warmth anchored him. It wasn't the joining he so desperately needed, but it was more of himself than he'd had a moment ago. He looked towards Silverymoon and smiled. It would take him weeks to sort through the knowledge buried in those emotions, let alone understand just who and what Serenity Silvermaid was to him; for the moment he just relished the sweetness of the love and affection he was feeling. It made his circumstances just a little brighter, and gave him a little more hope that his suffering wouldn't last. There was a light at the end of this tunnel, and for the time being it was staying in Silverymoon.

**************

Elminster guardedly walked down the streets of Ordulin with an eye open for water traps. In the two weeks he and his two companions had been together, watching for water had become second nature. It didn't matter whether it was hot or cold; invariably, it would find him, and his companions, at the most inopportune moments. Like it had on the morning after they finally made the Moonsea Road while pretending to be a lost little girl and her pet tressym, in order to snag a free ride from a Dalesman and his boys on their way to market – stupid hot tea.

And then there was the time last week in Essembra, when El had been trying to retain some dignity before Emri Jhunsten, one of his former apprentices. He'd needed to obtain the rare spell components necessary to renew the tracking spell on Ranma, but all he'd gotten was a face full of manly giggles and a ball of catnip for his troubles. The bastard just had to have a water mephit for a familiar, didn't he? Young Emri was of course pondering the perils of mocking an archmage, while wearing the form of a female hyena cub. Sadly, Jhunsten didn't have all of the components needed for the spell, but he did have quite a few odds and ends that made life a little easier on Elminster's group. The old mage paid a fair price for the items he took, but left Emri trapped as a hyena for the rest of the month as a lesson not to mock the troubles of others.

Another incident had happened just this morning when El had been trying to move through a seedy part of Ordulin. It was the type of neighborhood that didn't appreciate weakness, but it was the quickest way to the local guild house. They'd made it well over two-thirds the way through, only to have some fool woman toss her dirty wash water out the window as El was passing a pack of toughs. The beat down was very cathartic and the archmage turned magical catgirl could only grin smugly at the fresh memory of poetic justice being served. Those toughs wouldn't be assaulting or trying to enslave young exotic girls any more – that was for certain. Elminster just wished that he hadn't been forced to use that silly ribbon attack. If Alassra ever got wind of that…El shuddered, quickly warded him…herself against evil, and offered a fervent prayer to his Lady of Mysteries that such a thing would never, ever, happen.

Valor seemed less inclined to fall prey to these attacks, mostly because she had wonderful reflexes and a pair of wings. That wasn't to say she hadn't had her fair share of embarrassments though. Thankfully, there weren't too many people to frighten with the sight of a Drow along their paths. Still, she seemed content enough with her other half, considering the amount of time she spent lazing on Elminster's shoulder, sunning herself as they walked.

Sadly Valor wasn't the one that really concerned Elminster. He'd seen enough soul fragmentation during his travels through the vast reaches of the multiverse to know what the other little catgirl really was. More than that, all his auguries and divinations had pointed to the fact that the third member of their little adventuring party was an integral part of Ranma's psyche. She was also evidently the reason why all of his tracking spells seemed skewed. It was hard to pinpoint a soul that had been split, and even harder to track one when you had a piece of that soul standing right next to you. This, in and of itself, was frustrating but not insurmountable.

The thing that really bothered the Chosen of Mystra, was the fact that a soul fragment wasn't going to be enough to fulfill the terms of his contract with the goddess. This was a major problem since there was really no telling how many parts he was going to be chasing down. And if he couldn't find all of the lad's parts to teach, how was he supposed to mentor Ranma Saotome "…in the intricacies of life, love, magic, and various sundries…" (which El took to be a catch all for everything else that Kinhon'i hadn't had the time to properly address) as the goddess had demanded?

He needed a whole soul, or at the very least the majority of one to work with. This meant that he was going to have to not only hunt down the other fragments, but also find a way to bind them again if possible. Mother of Mysteries! Based on the files Kinhon'i had given him, just thinking of all the trouble that multiple soul fragments of Ranma Saotome could get into made his head throb! He wasn't getting any younger, and contrary to the common myths he wasn't truly immortal. The task of mentoring Ranma Saotome was shaping up to be the quest of a lifetime and El knew that something so long term was going to be filled with massive problems. As if training up a godling wasn't problematic enough. That meant finding the necessary components for the tracking spell, or buying the appropriate scroll from a spellmonger. He could no doubt create the scroll himself, but that would still require the necessary components.

The archmage sighed and glanced at the hyperactive catgirl as he neared the Magic Quarter of Ordulin's markets. He'd taken to tying a bit of magically expanding rope to a small harness that wrapped around the inquisitive little being's torso. He was careful not to make it look like something that would be mistaken for a slave collar, but it was a leash all the same. Many a harried mother had looked at the harness longingly when he passed them, as their children ran them ragged throughout the more mundane sections of the markets they had visited. He supposed that he could have jury-rigged one of the Thayan slave bonds to keep the soul fragment in line, but the last thing he wanted was to be bound to Ranma Saotome on such an intimate level.

Elminster continued to ponder his predicament and plan how he was going to fulfill his obligations to the goddess as he passed beneath the warded arch of Ordulin's magical bazaar. The strange and wondrous sights didn't faze him as much as they had in years past. After having attended many a Magefair, the city's offerings were quaint at best. Still, there was something to be said about the homely feeling of the bazaar – what with the smells of potion ingredients and the thrumming hum of the various enchantments. It was Mystra's dream made reality; a place where magic and knowledge flowed – a place where you couldn't help but absorb something new just by brushing elbows with witches and sages alike. It made Elminster's heart swell, and lifted the weight of his troubles a bit just to be there…among _his_ people.

Surprisingly, to the Old Mage at least, the open market was packed with more clientele than El had remembered from his previous visits. The symbols of Mystra and Azuth were prevalent everywhere, prominently displayed more often than not, for all to see. The totem that he had begun associating with Ranma was out in force as well, and just the sight of it seemed to excite the little catgirl at the end of El's magic tether to no end. It was all he could do just to keep her in line as they made their way past a potion vendor's table. Had it not been for a few timely distractions from the various shop keepers, the archmage was certain that the felinoid would have enthusiastically pounced on more than one of Ranma's followers in order to shower them with feline affection.

As it was, she had brushed up to more than one of the godling's disciples in the press of bodies and was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears, and in one case a rather large river trout, for her display of warmth.

El silently wondered if the soul fragment had the ability to dole out blessings to those that won her favor.

Half way through the press El wondered what it would take to gain a little bit of Ranma's favor. An instant later a rather aggravated water elemental doused a fire imp that had tried to steal a free meal of fish that were swimming within the elemental's body. The outcome was never in doubt – the elemental overshot, dousing Elminster in a cool deluge of saltwater. The transformation, like so many times before, began with an icy tingle that swept through El's body and ended with a rapid change in perspective – one moment he stood a head above most in the crowd, and the next he was looking at belt buckles and codpieces. It was so damn annoying.

"So much for a bit of favor." The neo-catgirl groused as she flicked a bit of water from her soggy bangs.

El drug her hissing, and very soaked, companions off of the cowering forms of the owners of the elemental and the fire imp and away from that part of the market altogether. It wasn't that she didn't think the poor fools didn't deserve a little threatening, but there were other things to accomplish today and they weren't getting done. Her first order of business would be to get some hot water.

Not for the first time since being cursed, the thought occurred to her that she needed to come up with some cantrips that would dry her fur and clothes. A spell or two that repelled water, or pulled and heated water from the air wouldn't be remiss either. The sad part about this desire was that her magic was very different in this form. While it was very powerful, the magic tended to be highly focused and unbending. It was mainly offensive in nature, lending itself more to destruction than to anything else. El thought it terribly inelegant; but magic was magic in her estimation, and all magic flowed from the same place. He wasn't going to bad mouth his one true love, the goddess Mystra, for a little hardship. He'd suffered worse in his service to her, and since Ranma had somehow become associated with his Lady's pantheon, El was going to do his best not to grumble and complain…at least not too much. Contrary to popular belief and her current form, El was only human after all.

"Beloved Mystra, Lady mine, preserve and protect thy servant against the temptations of the day." Elminster mumbled as she searched for a soup vendor or an open air café.

It took him quite some time to make it through the press of bodies and, by the time he finally found the entrance to an appropriately named tavern called _Mystra's Bosom_, El had a deep and abiding sympathy for Halflings everywhere. The archmage turned magical catgirl sighed deeply and offered up a prayer of gratitude when they finally made it to a private booth towards the back of the tavern. The serving maid was positively taken with both El and Ranma's soul fragment, and immediately brought out two bowls of sweet cream before taking El's quiet order for an excessive amount of food and a kettle of hot water. The barmaid didn't bat an eye at the request, but she did grin as Ranma's soul fragment began to purr and butted her head against the young woman's stomach. This earned her a liberal scratch between the ears that made the soul fragment's purr kick up a notch. The serving girl giggled and switched her attentions to the catgirl's chin, which wasn't nearly as pleasant but still earned the waitress a raspy lick to the back of the hand.

"Pleasure hound." El chastised with a grin. Valor snorted with amusement and twitched her wings atop Elminsters head. "Let the lass be so that she can fill your belly sooner rather than later."

If there was one thing that El had learned in the last three weeks of traveling with this embodiment of Ranma, it was that the catgirl loved two things more than anything else: liberal amounts of affection and gross quantities of food. It wasn't very endearing to El's gold purse when the fragment couldn't hunt for food, but it was difficult to say no to her wide eyed innocence. Luckily, this trait worked in their favor more than her stomach worked against her. She was just too cute to deny when she begged for food from vendors and farmers alike. El watched with amusement as the soul fragment's eyes widened at the mention of food. She butted the barmaid's hip with her head to urge her on before she turned her attention to the bowl of cream. The cute barmaid laughed gaily and gave the catgirl one last scratch before jogging off to the kitchen.

El gave a heavy sigh and rolled her neck to work out a kink that had been building there for the last tenday as she pulled a large tome covered in a copper toned leather, from seemingly nowhere. This seemed to be one of the more clever skills associated with the magical transformation – an extra-dimensional storage space that seemed to have no real weight limit. So long as an item was thinner than her body and was something that she could lift without trouble, it could be stored away and accessed with great ease. El hadn't really tested the limits of the ability yet, but she had been able to store everyone's supplies easily enough. Once she was certain that her debt to Kinhon'i was fulfilled, or at the very least well under way, she was going to find a way to replicate the skill.

Neat abilities aside, El had other pressing thoughts that needed her full attention; namely reviewing the file in her hands. She began rereading Ranma's file and occasionally tugged an overly curious catgirl back to the booth before she could get up to any mischief. The young serving maid finally arrived with the food, which was a nice distraction for the trio of odd felines sitting in the booth. El wasted no time in changing back to his natural form, which caused the poor barmaid to gasp and drew momentary attention from many of the tavern's patrons. He waved at them gaily before tucking into his meal. As practitioners of the Art, the feat of changing one's form wasn't all that impressive, but the speed and manner in which Ranma's soul fragment was packing away the food held their collective gaze much longer.

Considering that her hands seemed to be moving at a Quickling's pace, and the fact that over half of the plates seemed to be markedly diminished, Elminster couldn't blame them for staring openly. El slapped her wrist lightly when the catgirl paused in her voracious attack and frowned.

"Manners, Child. We're not in the wilds any longer." His chastisement was met with a mewling pout and a self conscious glance around the room, but his point was made. He considered the more subdued child before him and came to a decision. "I think the time has long passed to give ye a proper name. Now that we are once again among _civilized_ company, it might be best if I called you something more than _Child_ all the time. What say you?"

The catgirl twitched her nose and stared at Elminster with her large, expressive, slate blue eyes and meowed in a tone that was hesitant, but accepting all the same. El smiled and flipped back through the book towards the first chapter.

"We will need to see about teaching ye proper speech too." The catgirl frowned and snorted derisively at his suggestion. "Don't take that tone with me, Kitten. If ye are to be a part of this world, then it is only appropriate that ye learn its speech and customs. Now then, a name…calling ye Ranma doesn't see fitting since ye are but a part of his whole. Ye've gone by _Ranko_ in the past, how do ye like that?"

The catgirl hissed and shook her head.

"Alright then…Kitten?" Valor hopped to the table top and shook her head before moving over to a plate of roasted chicken. "Ye have the right of it Valor…that doesn't seem to fit well, does it?"

"Perhaps we should choose something closer to her heritage?" El stroked his short beard thoughtfully for a time. "…something Rokugani that reflects her personality more?"

The soul fragment bounced in her chair excitedly for a moment at the prospect of being named. El was more than a bit amazed at the amount of information that she seemed to understand, and some nagging part of his intellect told him that she was far more intelligent than she let on.

"Akiko?" At Valor's inquisitive pawing, El translated. "It means _Bright Light_."

The catgirl wrinkled her nose and shook her head violently.

"Alright then, how about Yoko? No? Don't like the idea of being a good girl do you? How about Janki then?"

The little catgirl actually growled at the idea of being called an imp, which told El he'd better not joke with her too much. He still remembered the mauled dire bear she had brought back to their camp for dinner. He held up his hands to placate her and then slowly drew out his pipe.

"Sakura? Yumi? Naomi? Umeko? Ren? Takara?" El sighed and shook his head as the catgirl summarily shot down each and every one of his suggestions – some more violently than others. He finally sighed tiredly and settled on going back to the beginning. "How about Koneko?"

The catgirl meowed jubilantly and El palmed his faced. He felt Valor's overwhelming curiosity touch his mind and he couldn't help but grin at the drow-turned-tressym.

"Well, if she wants to be called _Kitten_ then who am I to argue?"

Valor snorted and rolled her eyes before padding her way across the table. She hopped down to an empty corner of their booth next to Koneko and curled up next to the catgirl's thigh. The one good thing about having a felinoid for a companion was the inherent knowledge of where to scratch; Valor could only purr as Koneko found a particularly sensitive sweet spot to exploit. El smiled at the pair with open amusement before turning his attention back to the file.

He expected, upon mulling things over after the fact, that the event had gone entirely too smoothly; which was why it came as a complete surprise when Koneko's body suddenly went rigid with pleasure. Her scream of release was nothing less than orgasmic, and the subsequent eruption of positive energy from her body filled the common room with so much love and affection that many of the patrons passed out with smiles on their faces.

The only exceptions were a tiefling sorcerer and a lich hiding beneath a marvelous glamour. The first poor sod spontaneously combusted, while the lich screamed bloody murder and exploded in a hail of bone dust. El, had he been in his right mind at the moment, would have wondered if the fool's phylactery had survived the feedback.

Considering the amount of power flowing out of Koneko at the time…probably not.

But, those thoughts would come later. At the moment, all El could do was relish the familiar sensation of love from his goddess. It was the first sign of favor he'd had since Shadowdale, and oh…was it ever a sign. He would find himself redoubling his efforts to find and rejoin Ranma's errant soul fragments…just as soon as Mystra let him feel his legs again.

**************

Daerlun was a very interesting city. The home to over fifty two thousand people, it enjoyed a close relationship Cormyr. The people were warm and courteous, and had a way of charming people out of their money while making them feel good about parting with it. It was a trader's haven and a shoppers dream, a metropolis filled to the brim with merchants and shops that dealt in goods from all over the Realms.

As interesting as the city was, the sight of a gorgeous red headed goddess and her entourage trolling the bazaar was much more interesting to the Grey Basilisk and his gang. Word had filtered up through various channels and agents from the faithful of Shar about the scarlet haired elf-maid. The bounty being offered for her capture was astronomical, and if it could be done without harm to her the reward was more still. Perhaps that was why the Grey Basilisk noted five of his contemporaries brave enough to challenge the local Guilds, milling throughout the crowded streets.

Having watched the elf-maid for better than a week, the Grey Basilisk knew that she was a petitioner of the Mystran temple here in Daerlun. He'd yet to see her cast any spells, but he wasn't stupid enough to assume that she couldn't. After living this long as a mercenary and an adventurer, surviving all that he had, the Grey Basilisk wasn't one to take unnecessary risks. The best plans were the simple ones, which was why he'd seeded the bazaar with twenty hired men and placed his right and left hands at the elf wench's favorite food stand. The poisoned food would sedate the elf, and the hired hands would distract her companions and the competition long enough for his men to escape into the chaos with their prize.

Now it should be readily apparent to any veteran of sufficient experience that no plan ever survives the enemy intact. Thus, when chance raised its ugly head against a carefully laid plot, it should come as no surprise. Sadly, the Grey Basilisk's plan was foiled by a brash young merchant prince named Hogrhim Aporos – or rather, his thick, sausage sized fingers. They seemed to have a mind of their own, or so he protested laughingly to the fiery elf maid after his hand had grabbed her shapely bottom.

The Grey Basilisk had skulked through countless dark holes and faced innumerable nightmares in his travels, and he was proud to say that he had never once feared for his life. It was what made him a highly sought after professional. Yet in that moment, witnessing the visage of the elf maid, he knew true terror. As his bowels emptied themselves, he could only stand there dumbstruck as the wrath of Heaven and Hell fell upon the bazaar. The oppressive weight of her rage pressed down on everyone within a hundred meters of the elf maid, igniting the milling crowd's flight instincts. The stampede was nothing short of terrifying. When the maid's companions realized what had happened, their ire sent the aura of murderous intent rolling out further.

Hogrhim Aporos, while being a man of limited intellect, was wise enough to realize that his life was hanging by a thin thread. It was little surprise that he bolted into the rapidly retreating crowd just behind his retainers. Perhaps it was luck that the first eldritch bolt of lightning happened to just miss the fat man's posterior. Then again, considering the expression on the elf maid's face, the Grey Basilisk decided that she was intent on drawing out the man's suffering as long as possible. It took several uncomfortable strides to bring him to his right and left hand men, both of whom had been mere feet away from the vengeful goddess.

"We're leaving." Perhaps it was unnecessary to say, but there was something about vocalizing his intent that eased his trembling. One of the men stared at him blankly before falling over dead from fright, while the other simply curled into a small ball in the corner of the food stall and gibbered to himself incoherently.

It looked like he was going to have to find new men to replace these two. Perhaps it was for the best. Reneging on a contract wasn't good for business, and the fewer witnesses to his betrayal of the agreement, the better. Looking out over the ruined bazaar, the Grey Basilisk noted that three of the original five teams that had been after the elf maid were utterly trampled. The other two groups had fled, leaving their leaders alone in the open market to stare at one another. Never one to miss an opportunity, the Grey Basilisk proceeded towards his contemporaries. Banding together in the face of failure seemed the thing to do. After that, he could get a new pair of trousers and hopefully flee to Chult with new companions.

Losing oneself in jungles full of cannibals and other monstrosities seemed much more preferable to staying in Sembia right now.

**************

There are many universal constants. Some people of limited perspective call them "Laws" with a certain amount of emphasis on the capital "L." While these constants are rather important to the inner and outer workings of Creation, there are truthfully only a handful of "Laws", a couple of "Rules", and a smattering of "LAWS" and "RULES."

The poor schmuck that just goosed Ranma-chan was about to learn one of those "LAWS", namely: angry females of any species are deadly, and when gathered in packs said angry females are prone to vast amounts of property damage in venting that rage. Various circumstances will inevitably influence the magnitude of the destruction but, by and large, it is easier to catch a 747 falling from the sky than to escape the butchery unscathed.

The fact that Ranma-chan had been having nothing short of a perfectly blissful day when her person had been so rudely violated, meant that over three quarters of Daerlun would be in ruins within the hour – assuming that this Kuno-wannabe wasn't caught or conversely made a miraculous escape from the city before then. Not even the idyllic memory of warm love that she had felt this morning during her workout would save Hogrhim Aporos from her righteous fury.

The fact that she and her acolytes were driving him through the homes and businesses of known supporters of Shar – well, that was just icing on the cake now wasn't it? She watched with feral glee as yet another hidden temple was blown apart by a carefully placed, if rather large, fireball.

"Easy, Wynn." Ranma-chan chided with a bright grin. The tone and weight of her voice was happy and patient, and she could have easily been mimicking her mortal mother's cooking lessons rather than directing the censure of a degenerate pervert. "We don't want to roast him just yet, dear. The Forms must be observed after all. Certain punishments are meant to linger. Otherwise the poor idiot will simply forget what he did wrong."

"Yes, Lady Ranma."

"Nice power though." Ranma-chan patted the young woman on the arm and widened her smile. "Did you see the look on the bastard's face?"

All the women in Ranma-chan's entourage giggled and laughed at the memory of the merchant prince's terror. Sure the day might have had a dark little cloud marring it, but the female avatar of Ranma Weavebender was bound and determined to enjoy the rest of it as much as she could. And thus, the LAW of Feminine Rage continued to play out as Hogrhim Aporos ducked down yet another alley – this one leading to Rauthauvyr's Road.

"Looks like he's going to try for a ship in Saerloon." Phaele rolled her neck and shook purple spell smoke from her fingertips. The burly retainers that she branded with spell darts were now following their master as she intended.

"Well, with all the paths to Urmlaspyr blocked, that is really the only other major port nearby." Rhane, Wynn's older sister, said offhandedly.

"Long road?" Ranma-chan asked hopefully.

"Very." Rhane's smirk was downright devilish.

"Any of our shadowy friends live along the way?" There was no hiding the eagerness in Wynn's voice as she literally bounced in place.

"Plenty." Phaele's coy smile made Ranma laugh joyously. The sound echoed off the crumbling walls around them and bounced eerily through the heavy smoke.

Somewhere not too far ahead, Hogrhim Aporos heard the laughter and screamed in terror as he tore through yet another alley. His hopes of escaping the Furies behind him were in vain, he knew that; but, his fear and sense of self preservation wouldn't let him stop long enough to accept his fate.

Poor fool. In the terror filled days ahead, he would not only earn the enmity of one goddess, but two. Sadly, Ranma-chan was much more forgiving than Shar.

**************

A full tenday passed in a flash of worry and hurried travel from Lantan's shores. Keiichi had bought a ship named "Salvatore's Strumpet", and after two sleepless nights, he'd jury rigged Toril's first outboard motor. The fact that it was just as big as Kazuki-chan and could pull off some sixty knots into the wind amazed his followers and garnered a few more converts for his trip from the Isles of Invention.

They'd run afoul two groups of pirates, who'd taken one look at Kazuki-chan standing at the prow and altered their course. A sea monster of that resembled a mutant killer whale had followed them for quite some time, infatuated with the noise of the outboard, but eventually lost all interest when it couldn't keep up the grueling pace. The stop at Velen was brief, both for the need to replenish supplies and the need to have solid ground under one's feet again. Yet, all too soon for most of the crew, Keiichi pressed them back onto the ship. According to Maerdith, Candlekeep held a vast store of knowledge and if there was one place that Keiichi was likely to find clues on how to get to Cynnosure, it would be there.

So, with time pressing him even more, he made more adjustments to the ship's motor and jury-rigged a sonar station to navigate tricky shoals and reefs. This was no small miracle, since it cut the weeks long journey from Velen to Baldur's Gate down to a day and a half. This in turn birthed a new sect amongst the followers of the Father of Necessity, those who felt the Need…the Need for Speed. Most of them were young gnomes, but there was a pair of elderly women, who had become obsessed with the feeling of the wind flowing through their white hair.

Thus, Keiichi and his faithful followers arrived in Baldur's Gate early in the morning well before dawn on the tenth day, much sooner than even they had originally anticipated. Sister Maerdith jumped from the ship the moment they docked and vowed on her god's holy name never to travel by water again; at least never in something that Keiichi had a hand in building or upgrading. Keiichi had spent the better half of the day arranging for accommodations for Berthold and Owan Dunwater. The gnomes had much the same reaction to the sea voyage as Maerdith, and had humbly asked Keiichi to set them up in an inn until his business at Candlekeep was finished. The Innovator, uncertain how long he was going to be at the library fortress, decided to buy them a warehouse and gave Berthold strict instructions to help Owan outfit it with whatever the older gnome needed to bide the time. A few others from Keiichi's small flock opted to stay as well to help Owan with whatever the old gnome might stand in need of. Thus the one warehouse became two, and then three once the planning really got underway.

It wasn't the way that Maerdith imagined the first temple to Keiichi, the Innovator, would be raised; but raised it was with swift efficiency and a dash of chaos for added spice. Within three days time the warehouses had been refitted and joined together into one large complex of workshops. Thirty two of the sixty three worthies that had left Lantan remained in Baldur's Gate with instructions to pursue their dreams and to aid those that needed it; to comfort those that stood in need of comfort and build up a safe and industrious community for all. It was the first time that Maerdith had heard anything resembling doctrine flow from Keiichi's lips and, as it stood, she felt it was something she could believe in. It felt like the natural thing to do for anyone with good in their heart, and these thirty two souls certainly had good hearts. Father Ellosin, who had accompanied the group from Lantan, readily agreed with her assessment and cheerfully hinted that Baldur's Gate was in for a revolution of sorts. Maerdith just hoped that the port city was ready for the changes coming their way.

The trip from the port to the grand library was ready to go just after the noon meal of their third day in Baldur's Gate, thanks to Ruthart's effective organization and Keiichi's crash course in building what he termed a mix between a "Tour Bus" and a "Recreational Vehicle" – the terms meant nothing to her, since the massive creation looked more like a war wagon than anything else.

The large box cart was unlike any standard coach she had ever seen. It was huge, easily topping thirty feet high and built to hold over thirty bodies, including all the supplies necessary to feed and clothe Keiichi's small band. The work was nothing short of a miracle, and it was evident that Keiichi was in his element. Plans were finished within an hour and by the end of the second, Keiichi had bought out the use of four shops from the resident blacksmiths nearest the East Gate. The work was furious, and certainly had an excitable audience. At one point the project was almost put to a stop by the city guard, but Berthold worked some of his own magic and not only smoothed things over, but somehow hired the guardsmen and their captain to work on the "RV" after their shift was over. This seemed to ease the minds of the politicians running the city, or at least Keiichi's gold did – especially the way the Innovator was throwing it around. By the morning of the third day in the city, the monstrosity was completed and ready for Kazuki-chan to "jack" into. Maerdith had no idea what the term meant until the METAT literally joined himself to the RV, becoming the behemoth's engine.

Upon entering the vehicle, the cleric of Ohgma was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it was. There were bench seats for everyone, situated around rectangular tables allowing the passengers to face one another and converse at their leisure. Towards the back, there were waterclosets for both male and females, along with a small kitchen and pantry for food. There were steps at the very back that led up to a second floor which held more seating and, of all things, beds! There were also glass windows with pull down shades that allowed for people to enjoy the scenery or act as lookouts for the battle wagon. It was nothing short of miraculous, and she was certain that she hadn't seen half of what there was to see.

If anything, Keiichi's creation only fanned the flames of faith in his followers. She'd seen more than a few people asking Keiichi's acolytes for more information on this amazing man and his dogma. And the best part of it all, was that the Innovator himself had no idea that he was spreading the seeds of his faith. He just plugged along, working and solving problems as they arose. What made the day of his faithful and a very resourceful Berthold, was that Keiichi left the plans for the "RV" and an engine that would drive it behind with Owan. Maerdith had already heard Berthold and a merchant cleric of Waukeen talking about caravanning and opening up a travel service using a fleet of these vehicles. The idea that people would pay handsomely to travel in comfort and safety between here and Waterdeep or Amn wasn't in question. A city noble overhearing the conversation offered to put up the initial investment for the project and thus the temple had its first commission. The noble in question asked for passage with the group to assure himself that his investment was sound. Ruthart obliged him with the understanding that they were uncertain if or when they would be returning to Baldur's Gate. The man accepted the risk and hurried off to collect what he needed for the trip. Keiichi ignored it all in favor of pushing forward to Candlekeep.

So it was that the trip got underway just as the sun hit its zenith on the third day of their stay in Baldur's Gate. Keiichi insisted that everyone sitting in a bench secure themselves with "seatbelts" and Maerdith immediately understood why. Kazuki-chan was eager to be on the move and it showed. She wasn't sure how she had been convinced to ride up front with Keiichi, Ruthart, and Father Ellosin, but by the time she realized the danger, it was too late. The one hundred and fifty mile road from Baldur's Gate to CandleKeep wasn't straight and, on foot and without any surprises, it would take approximately five days to arrive at the great library.

Maerdith knew that they would beat that time without any trouble at all.

The scenery literally blurred under Kazuki-chan's speed, but without the wind whipping her hair about Maerdith was uncertain just how fast they were going. Even the gentle sway of the RV's carriage belied just how fast she knew they must be traveling. Perhaps it was her insatiable curiosity that led her to the inevitable question, but in the end, she made the mistake of asking Keiichi when he expected to reach the grand library. After a small conference with Father Ellosin, and a few quick calculations, he estimated no less than two and a half hours!

Maerdith of Ohgma certainly could see what it was that made Keiichi Morisato something special. The fact she had seen and felt his love for Belldandy firsthand did nothing to stem the growing affection that she was feeling for the man. She knew it was stupid of her. She knew in her heart and mind that he would never return her love. So why was she entertaining the emotions at all? It made no logical sense. The priestess could only shake her head and humble herself in prayer to her god, begging Ohgma to give her further understanding of her own path to play in Keiichi's destiny. The rest of the trip was spent in supplication, and by the time they arrived at the gates of Candlekeep, Maerdith was no closer to understanding her heart than before. One thing, which wouldn't become clear until much later in her life, was that she would no longer objectively write Keiichi's story. Her love for him would seep into her narrative, and in the days ahead her own devotion to Ohgma would be tested – even as Duncan's faith had been tested.

Which would she choose? Ohgma or Keiichi? Would her heart even give her the choice? As she watched Keiichi and Father Ellosin step from the cabin of the RV to speak with the Gate Keepers of the keep, Maerdith found herself already beginning to feel torn. Her disquiet was replaced by amusement when Kazuki-chan removed himself from the chassis and nearly gave the poor gate captain a heart attack. If nothing else, Maerdith knew that her path lay with this man and his mechanical son. Perhaps that knowledge would be enough to see her through to the end?

She watched the plain, yet handsome face of the god-to-be and smiled. Yes, perhaps.

**************

Silverymoon

She woke to the sound of voices. There was a sense of tension and urgency in their tone, but it was terribly hard to discern due to the languid warmth that suffused her heart and mind. She had touched Ranma, split though the Weavebender was, and each of his many aspects had returned her love an hundred fold. It was blissful. Was it any wonder that Usagi wanted nothing more than to hold on to the fleeting feeling as long as possible? Unfortunately, reality doesn't hold well with dreams, and the voices again drew her attention back to the waking world.

"Was it any difference for the rest of us?" A voice demanded. The softness of her voice was simply steel covered in velvet. "We each carry within us a piece of the Mother Goddess, is it so hard to believe that our sister has been granted such a boon as well?"

"No mighty Simbul," This voice seemed to smile playfully as it spoke, and Serenity felt the fond affection beneath the words. "It is not the gift that bothers me so; it is the timing of said gift that provokes my curiosity."

"How so, Laeral?"

"A mystery for another time Dove, for our baby sister awakes, though she hides it well."

Busted. Usagi must have frowned, because the rest of the women in the room let out peels of laughter.

"So, Baby Sister." Storm dropped herself onto the bed beside Usagi. "How are you feeling?"

Usagi contemplated that question, and many others that jockeyed for prominence in her mind, for a moment before answering.

"Tired." Her voice was raw and scratchy, and the water that one of the women pressed to her lips was heavenly. "Thanks."

"None needed, Little Rabbit." The woman's voice was regal, yet soothing – belying the wild and untamed ferocity that seemed to ooze from the rest of her. Usagi's gaze was drawn to her eyes and she found herself swallowed by a hidden maelstrom in the depths of the woman's soul.

"Alassra." The name came to her mind unbidden and slipped from her lips before she could rein the word in. "You're Alassra, Mystra's Vengeance."

The Simbul seemed a bit shocked and looked to the other women uncertainly as Usagi pressed her hand to her forehead. Foreign memories and sensations welled in her mind and heart at the vocalization of the name. She shook her head to clear away the cobwebs that clung to her consciousness and looked at the woman sitting to the Simbul's right.

"Storm. You're Storm. Mystra's Compassion." More images and a feeling of raw affection flowed through her extremities as Usagi came to know Storm Silverhand from the memories Mystra had pressed onto her.

Each sister was named in turn: Dove, Mystra's Sword. Laerel, Mystra's Cunning. Alustriel, Mystra's Hope. Sylune, Mystra's Wisdom. Qilue, Mystra's Acceptance. And with each name came a comfortable sense of familiarity that set Usagi more at ease. She might not know these women, but she could easily recognize them as family. Her naming them seemed to unsettle the sisters for a moment, but they recovered quickly enough to shower Usagi with a great deal of warmth and affection. All of which was most welcome.

The group, as a whole, jabbered like a flock of geese until well after lunch had come and gone. Usagi ate voraciously and smacked anyone's fingers that quested too close to her plates; Dove in particular had quite a few bruises on her knuckles to show for her thieving attempts. It wasn't until the Eighth Mystery had finished gorging herself that talk turned to more serious matters.

"She's going to need a reliable teacher, Alassra." Laeral said.

"And despite how much we might wish to be her mentors, time is one of the few things we have to spare; especially now with Obould on the move here in the north." Alustriel sighed. "We might be able to spare a tenday here and there, and that is being generous."

"But there are so few that can be trusted to teach her what she needs to know." Laeral frowned. She had so been looking forward to this! Damn orcs! It was always something that raised its head to ruin her fun! "Khelben is tied down, and if what you say is true about Elminster then it is very clear that we may not see him for years."

The Simbul smiled and nodded her head, but didn't say anything.

"What are you thinking Sister?" Dove asked. The shrewd look in her eye was unsettling, but the Simbul's smile only broadened.

"Simply put – a tutor."

"I thought we had established that none were available?" Storm asked.

"None from this world perhaps." The Simbul's smile widened.

"I think not!" Laeral growled. "I will not let my youngest sister be exposed to that red headed engine of destruction!"

"Lina was not so bad." Alassra waved her hand dismissively.

"Not bad? NOT BAD?" Laeral ground her teeth. "That little brat destroyed my entire demi-plane!"

"Only because you had the poor manners to ask if she was a transvestite."

"It was an honest mistake! Considering the fact that she's flat as a board, how could anyone have not come to the same conclusion?"

"Be that as it may, Lina was not the person I was thinking about. Mystra forbade the use of her Art here anyway, so, even if I wanted the little firebrand, she wouldn't be able to teach Serenity anything remotely useful."

"Then who did you have in mind?" Dove asked.

"Susan."

"Susan?" Alustriel demanded. "Are we talking about the Susan I think we're talking about?"

"That depends. How many Susan's do we know?" Storm asked with a grin.

"One." The sisters chimed in unison. Alassra nodded triumphantly.

"Who else could teach Serenity all she needs to know? She has experience teaching children, the lineage to understand our Little Rabbit's unique heritage, and more than enough propriety to deter any threat that comes her way."

"And those that don't have the sensibility to turn away will undoubtedly wish they had." Laeral cackled. "A brilliant choice!"

"Being the granddaughter of an anthropomorphic personification of Death does have its bright points, does it not?"

"What of her magical studies?" Sylune asked. "It would be a crime to neglect them."

"Our Little Rabbit is a sorceress of the highest caliber." Alassra defended. "Anyone with eyes can see that. Just look at her retainers if you doubt me."

"I don't doubt you dear Simbul." Sylune placated. "I would rather that Usagi have the same solid foundation that we had before gallivanting off into the unknown to stir up trouble."

"As would we all." Alustriel stroked Usagi's hair affectionately. "We will enroll Usagi into the Lady's College and leave her instruction in their capable hands. Susan will oversee the more important aspects of her education."

"Capital idea!" Dove clapped. "How soon can dear Susan be here?"

"Shall I invite her for dinner?" Alassra smiled eagerly.

"Let's make it a proper feast!" Storm grinned.

"We can't do that!" Alustriel countered. "You know how much Susan hates it when people make a fuss."

"So we'll only go with the month long festival that we'd originally planned?" Laeral pouted. "I swear! Susan's such a stick in the mud!"

The rest of the sisters laughed merrily at Laeral's antics before throwing themselves into the thick of planning. Usagi simply stared at the rapid exchange with a growing sense of uncertainty and dread as the plans became more and more extravagant.

When had she lost control of her life?

She couldn't help but curse the day that she'd saved a black cat from the clutches of a group of stupid little boys. Maybe they'd seen something in Luna that she couldn't. Maybe they'd been trying to save her from her Fate. Usagi sighed and dumped her chin onto hand. Well, she'd made her bed. There was nothing left to do but lie in it and hope for good dreams. Yes, dreams; dreams of a pigtailed Adonis and all of his yummy tight muscles.

She was forced to wipe the drool from her lips more than once under the knowing grins of all her new sisters. It was so humiliating, but she just couldn't help herself!

**************

The City of Shade

Telamont Tanthul sat upon his throne, silently contemplating the news the three scouts had brought him concerning the township of Providence and its inhabitants. Hadrhune, The Prince's Hand, stood at his right hand and behind Telamont's throne looking as troubled as the High Prince of the Shadovar felt.

Every augury that he'd demanded insisted that he should not pursue this course any further. But every practical thought told him that his power base would shatter if he didn't. Telamont had made a great number of enemies across the Planes, and being without magic to protect himself and his people from those threats was not an option he was willing to entertain. He was literally damned if he followed this course, and he was damned if he didn't. In the end it was simply choosing the lesser of two deaths. He could either languish on his throne awaiting the proverbial axe, or he could actively pursue his destruction in the hopes of cheating death. He'd successfully done so, many times in the past; what was one more gamble?

"Hadrhune."

"Yes, my Prince."

"Continue observing our target. Learn of his strengths and weaknesses." Telamont paused thoughtfully. "Move cautiously and silently. Do nothing to bring attention to our investigations. Once we have his full measure, only then shall we move against him."

"Yes, my Prince."

"Oh, and Hadrhune." The Prince's Hand paused as he turned to leave. "Remember that time is of the essence. Even now, I can feel our enemies gathering to see us undone."

Telamont watched his most faithful servant exit the throne room with a quickened step, once again pondering if this was the best course of action. The more he thought about the situation, the more he realized that this was his only course of action. That knowledge did nothing to alleviate the growing dread in his black heart.

**************

"PUT ME DOWN DAMN YE!"

Bedlam. That was the word in Sembia.

Elminster had heard tales from refugees rolling in day and night, for a full three days before the force that was Ranma Weavebender had come to Ordulin. He knew something was afoot well before the horror stories reached his ears. Koneko was beside herself with excitement and kept looking to the southeast with an expression of giddy anticipation about her adorable face. Two days before Ranma's female aspect arrived he'd felt her overwhelming presence approaching like a storm on the wind.

It was terrifying; that impending sense of doom. He'd felt the self-same sensation every time he entered a dungeon or faced off against some nameless horror.

Thus, he did everything he possibly could to prepare for Ranma's inevitable arrival. He warned those in power to prepare, secretly warded orphanages and a number of places of special interest, and frantically dug himself a functional bunker to weather the hurricane that was approaching. The foolish merchants refused to believe him and the guards only paid him passing attention. He would have stayed in his safe little hole until the chaos had passed him by, if he hadn't forgotten to buy his tobacco.

Right now the Magister was really cursing his addiction to pipe-weed.

Hogrhim Aporos had come upon him quite by accident, right after some fool woman had emptied her wash basin over El's head. Thus it was, in a fit of panic and self-preservation, the terrified pervert had scooped up little magical cat-girl Elminster, on the off chance that the demoness and her coven would spare him if he was carrying a little girl. The stupid fool had only made the avatar and her Furies more enraged, and the spells they threw his way only changed in their intent rather than stopped as he'd hopped.

El could only say this about the man; he was very agile and adept at dodging. No doubt all the credit could be laid at Ranma's feet.

"THEY WON'T STOP YE FLEA-BITTEN MONGREL!" Elminster yelled. "PUT ME DOWN AND FACE THY PUNISHMENT LIKE A MAN!

Hogrhim continued to ignore the cute little cat-girl in the frilly dress in favor of dodging down another alley, just ahead a number of eldritch bolts of power. El could see that they were drifting further and further away from Koneko-chan and Valor, and subsequently the safety of El's impressively warded bunker. Not that it would have done him any good against the likes of Ranma and her group. El sighed and tried not to grimace as Hogrhim squeezed her small body tighter reflexively as another green bolt of magical energy zipped past his ear.

Damn the tobacco. He was swearing off the stuff here and now. There was no way in the Abyss that he was ever going to touch the stuff again.

"NOT THAT WAY YE MORONIC TOAD! YE'RE HEADING INTO SOME POOR FOOL'S ESTATE! YE'LL BE TRAPPED FOR SURE!"

It wasn't like Elminster wanted to be a back-coach driver, but from the massive murderous intent building at their backs, he was starting to feel kind of sorry for the poor schmuck that had abducted him. There was really no way to escape Ranma's blinding wrath now. It was just a matter of degrees. He could take his medicine now, or prolong the inevitable a bit longer and let her anger grow.

"**PERVERT! LET THE LITTLE CAT-GIRL GO AND I PROMISE ONLY TO GELD YOU!**"

Hogrhim squealed like a pig, and began blubbering. Prayers to Waukeen and Lathander escaped the man's lips without thought and Elminster felt a strange sort of pity overcome him.

"It's a good deal, you really should take it."

"SHUT UP!" El winced at the pitch of the man's squeaky voice and rubbed her sensitive ears to soften the ringing.

"Ye don't have to screech like a banshee. I can hear ye fine."

El crossed her small arms and pouted. This is what she got for trying to be compassionate. Well, if that was the way the moron wanted it, fine. Elminster would just keep her suggestions to herself from here on out. Let the bastard bury himself for all she cared.

The fugitive ran up the steps to some wealthy merchant's home and shouldered his way through the door with a strength born of desperation. A servant carrying a wash bucket screamed in alarm as he and El flew by, upsetting the older woman and her bucket of dirty water on the tiled floor with a splash. They flew down two corridors, drawing curious eyes in their wake. The sound of loud cursing and bodies hitting the floor echoed from behind them, causing the terrified man to start praying anew. That lasted until an older man and woman stepped from a rather well appointed room in expensive dressing gowns and sleeping caps.

"MOMMY! DADDY! SAVE ME!"

El found himself thrust into the arms of the old man, who immediately began running when the end of the corridor went up in a conflagration of eldritch blue and purple flames. The older woman chanced a look over her shoulder and screamed bloody murder at the sight of Ranma-chan wreathed in magic and fire. Her eyes glowed red, even from this distance, and El felt a shudder run through her little body.

"HOGRHIM! YOU STUPID PUSTULE!" The patriarch of the Aporos family roared. "WHAT EVIL HAVE YOU BROUGHT DOWN UPON OUR HEADS!"

The man's son whimpered something under his breath, hoping that he wouldn't be heard. Unfortunately, even a fool knows that a parent, especially a mother, can hear a fly fart at a hundred paces when they're properly motivated.

"YOU DID WHAT!?"

El had to smile at the scandalized outrage in the voice of Hogrhim's mother. If his life weren't in such danger, he might have even laughed at the idea that the moron was getting his ears boxed by the elderly matriarch for goosing a maid in the market. Amazingly the beating that Lady Aporos was unloading on her son did little to slow their pace. If anything, it made the boy run faster.

And thus it went for a full two hours more. Hogrhim would run to another merchant's house, kick in the door and barrel through. This would subsequently draw in more bodies to the mob, which in turn created a wall of flesh between him and Ranma. The elders of the Aporos family were no longer just running from Ranma, but from their peers as well for dragging them into the madness. Elminster had found herself passed back and forth between father and son, like some sort of hot potato, until they finally made their way to the steps of the Great Hall of the Council of Sembia. Hogrhim had been aiming for the Tower of the Guards, but the bristling wall of steel that met him there was definitely not friendly, so he'd immediately altered his course accordingly.

Unfortunately, all hope of escape died a sudden and ignoble death as the manic pervert reached the mighty golden doors of that august establishment. For there, standing before the great portals, was none other than Ranma-chan herself. Her red hair had turned to flames, and her eyes were now white coals of fury that caused the entire mob to stop dead in their tracks. Elminster had been in the presence of Mystra, and that self-same weight of divinity now shrouded Ranma-chan like a cloak. It pressed down upon everyone, forcing them to their knees, shaking like leaves one and all.

The Magister was humbled when Ranma-chan came up to her and lifted El's chin, carefully inspecting the magical cat-girl for injuries.

"You alright?"

Elminster nodded dumbly, inadvertently biting her lip in an adorable display of worry. Ranma-chan narrowed her eyes, weighing El in a way that made the mage sweat. The avatar's gaze seemed to sort through Elminster's soul for a time, before Ranma-chan smiled warmly and patted the magical cat-girl's head.

"We'll talk later Elminster Aumar. Right now, I got some divine feminine justice to hand out to this little bastard." Hogrhim cringed as she strode forward and lifted the idiot clear from his feet. "What am I going to do with you and your grabby little fingers, Hogrhim Aporos?"

"Burn them off one by one." Wynn yelled.

"And his bits!" Rhane added.

"It's a start." Ranma smiled darkly.

Hogrhim pissed himself in fright and began to weep again. El was amazed that the man had any liquid left in him after all that running and sweating.

"He does have much to answer for, Lady Ranma." Phael's voice was filled with reverence.

"True. Rather than take his initial punishment like a man, he ran from his troubles hoping that daddy would save him. How many lives did you endanger in your attempt to escape justice Little Hogrhim?"

The crowd roared in anger, calling for Hogrhim's head to roll.

"Killing's too quick for this one." Ranma shook her head and tapped her chin.

"Please spare my son!" Lady Aporo's crawled on her belly to Ranma's feet and wept for her only child as only a caring mother would. "Yes he is stupid. Yes he is a waste of skin. He is his father's son! If you must punish someone, punish him!"

Ranma, Elminster, and the rest of the crowd could only blink as the blame was shifted from heir to patriarch. Lord Aporos could only stare at his wife, mouth firmly unhinged in disbelief.

"What are you saying woman!? Are you trying to get me killed?"

"We wouldn't even be in this mess if you hadn't taught your son to wench you…you…you filthy, unfaithful, horse's ass!"

"Unfaithful! Isn't that the kettle preaching to the pot! How many stablemen warm your bed whore?"

"At least they have something to warm me up with Dinky!"

The battle of words went back and forth, becoming more and more ribald with each passing moment, leaving Ranma and many within the crowd stunned. When the matriarch launched herself at her husband, intent to claw his eyes out, a number of guardsmen stepped in and separated the pair.

In their wake, a group of well dressed men and women (even if they were in their pajamas) stepped forward and bowed low to a still stunned Ranma.

"Who is this conquering sorceress that we do address?" An elderly man, complete with long stringy grey beard, asked differentially.

Seeing that Ranma wasn't going to be answering anytime soon, Phael stepped forward.

"Ranma Weavebender, Goddess of Sorcery. Kneel before her majesty." At the half-elf's words, power seemed to spike in Ranma unconsciously forcing everyone to their knees again.

"We cede Sembia and her holdings to thee, oh Goddess of Sorcery. Have mercy on us all."

"The Weavebender accepts you and your offerings gladly." Wynn eagerly acknowledged.

This seemed to snap Ranma out of her stupor.

"Say what?"

El groaned and shivered. Somehow, someway, the Magister turned little magical cat-girl knew that this wasn't going to end well.


	12. Chapter 10

**************

Disclaimer:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

You know this part by heart now, so I'll skip to the new stuff.

Susan Sto Helit, Discworld, and the various sundries, all belong to the majestic Sir Terry Pratchett. They are his and his alone. If you haven't read any of his books, stop reading here, get out of your chair and run, _**RUN**_, to your nearest library. His work is more interesting and entertaining than mine by far.

There will be mention of a cameo from another author's work. I'd rather not ruin the surprise, but will give him full credit in the next chapter.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Note:**

I am taking liberties with Elven physiology and using stuff from my own campaign setting with regards to Elven and Half-elven pregnancies. The idea of inter-racial breeding has always been one of those questions none of the source material answered for me, so I came up with my own explanation.

Enjoy!

**************

Realms

Chapter Ten

**************

Providence

"Thirty six months? You gotta be kidding, right?" Ranma-kun stared at Sefaril Kalavir dumbstruck.

"Not in the least. Elven mothers carry their children for three years before giving birth." The expectant mother smiled at the grayish green hue that Ranma's face had taken on; it was always nice to humble a man now and again, and nothing humbled a person like trying to walk in a pregnant woman's shoes.

"But you ain't gonna have to go through all that right? I mean, you're human."

"True. But, carrying a half-elven child is still considerably different than a normal human pregnancy." Sefaril paused and groaned as she leaned against the railing of the balcony overlooking the main square of Providence. "I may have to carry the baby for the full elven term, then again it may be shorter. One thing is for certain though, the pregnancy will still be around a year and a half, give or take a month or two. Half-elven pregnancies are never as exact or as predictable as a purely human or elven pregnancy."

"That's just crazy." Ranma shook his head and smiled. It seemed to fit his chaotic nature to a tee though. No wonder he'd gotten stuck with the mantle. He looked at Sefaril and gestured, asking for permission to touch her swollen belly. She nodded and smiled eagerly. Ranma's hand was warm and the baby immediately wiggled in response.

"She's growing stronger everyday." He whispered. "Her spirit is so eager."

Sefaril covered Ranma's hand with her own and for just a moment, he felt a little more complete. Not as an individual, but in purpose. This whole thing was…it was _him_. It was who and what he was; the merging of worlds and blending of dualities. He'd never felt so excited before; not about anything!

Sefaril looked deep into his bright and energized eyes, and slowly let herself lean in to lightly kiss his lips. The young godling couldn't keep the surprised blush from his cheeks. He could feel the woman's love and devotion for him, as well as the yearning to belong to someone again. That void of loneliness was so deep and vast, he couldn't help but want to fill it in someway.

"She's responding to your presence, and the safety that you offer everyone near you." Sefaril pointed out.

Ranma-kun nodded and brushed his cheek against Sefaril's face. Her breath quickened at the feel of his perfect skin and the cocoon of warmth his mere presence was blanketing her in. The irresistible pull of his lips drew her in and she lost herself in the passion of the moment.

Things would have proceeded further had Ranma not suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of panic cut through his being. He pulled away abruptly and stared down, brow furrowed intensely, as if searching for the source of the sensation.

"What is it?" Sefaril whispered. The sudden tenseness in his muscles worried her more than the golden glow that settled in his eyes.

"She needs help."

Sefaril had no idea who "she" was, but the urgency was plain.

"Go. Save her."

Looking back on it later, she would find it amusing that she had given permission to someone as powerful as Ranma to do what needed to be done. In the now however, he simply nodded and vanished in a cloud of cool shadows, leaving her alone in the newly completed home. The feeling of security and sense of belonging vanished with Ranma, and the void in her heart grew more pronounced. Images of Maric filled her mind and the guilt of the kiss she'd shared with Ranma plagued her. Seven years of devotion and love she had shared with Maric; through blood, sweat, and tears – through illness and war, peace and plenty. And now, so soon after burying him, she had betrayed her love.

Yet nothing on Toril had ever felt so very _right_ before – not even her relationship with Maric. The burning passion she felt in his presence was nearly suffocating. Ranma was so focused and his very breath charged her magic to transcendence. Oh Sweet Mystra! What was she to do now? Ignore her feelings? Shun Ranma in favor of her dead and beloved Maric?

So lost in her thoughts, she never noticed the unnatural shadow crawling across the floor, nor the blow gun that slowly pierced the heart of that shadow, until it was too late. She had a brief instant of panic seize her before the dart hit. The poison was instantaneous, freezing her muscles even as it put her into a deep, deep, sleep. Had she remained conscious for just a moment more, she would have recognized the pale grey skin of the Shadovar immerging from the confines of the shadow. That alone would have terrified her; if she had seen the eager expression of triumph on the Shadovar's face, she would have despaired.

**************

Nacacia was a half-elf. She had been named after the famous half-elven lover of Elminster Aumar, who had helped in laying the foundations of the Mythal of Myth Drannor. Her mother was a Moon-elf historian and her father a priest of Oghma that had met and fallen in love at Candlekeep. Nacacia was young, barely seven summers old, and in the clutches of drow.

The raid on their little village had been vicious. Set a day north from Waterdeep, Ramble was the home of farmers and tradesmen. Her parent's home was something of a welcome oddity for the men and women of the town. With the aid of her mother and her mother's family, her father had constructed a beautiful temple to his god amidst a natural grove of shadowtops that had been left to grow, rather than be cut to make way for more planting fields. It seemed the perfect place to establish a temple to the Lord of Knowledge; it was quiet, and close enough to a large center of trade where knowledge could be shared. The townsfolk seemed eager, if not out right proud to have the temple built in their community. And life, quiet as it was, moved on. Soon Nacacia was born and their little family seemed incredibly happy. It was the perfect life, until the drow burrowed up from their hellish, dark holes.

The glade had been destroyed, Ohgma's temple desecrated and the altar defiled with her mother's own heart blood. Her father was tortured and she was forced to watch each and every profane act as the drow priestess had done unspeakable things to the poor man. She had cried out to Oghma, vainly pleading for aid, but the god did not answer her as she was drug into the tunnels and far from her home. She continued to pray as she was towed through the streets of Karsolythiyl, a small but thriving drow city deep within the bowels of Toril's Underdark.

She despaired as the drow priestess handed her off to the matron of her house, a high priestess of Loth. And now, tied to the bloody altar as she was, with the knife of the evil matron hanging over her, all she could do was weep in terror. She knew what was coming. She knew there was no denying it. Yet, something deep inside her refused to give up; a spark of defiance that refused to die. It cried out to the heavens, praying that someone or something would come to her aid.

The knife fell, but to her surprise it did not pierce her flesh. She opened her eyes and stared in disbelief as a man…no. No man could emit so much power and sense of reverence. This being before her was a god, shrouded in golden flames and writhing shadows. His eyes burned with righteous fury and where his hand gripped the matron's wrist, she burned. The sizzling of the drow's skin filled Nacacia with hope and the power of Lloth, which had filled the chamber to the point of suffocation just moments before, evaporated as if it never were.

The Being looked down at her and smiled softly. It was a reminder of the affection her parents had for her that filled her to overflowing with a sense of warmth and peace. She hadn't felt so loved in what seemed an Age. He didn't speak. There was no need. She knew his name. How could she not know Glauenthiel, the Spirit Sentinel? She had called to him, and he had answered. He had come for her when none else would, and in the instant their eyes met, she became his.

It was just that simple.

The chains holding Nacacia turned to slag beneath his gaze, even as the other priestesses surged forward to the aid of their matron. There was no heat to burn her flesh; one moment they were whole and the next they were puddles on the floor of the chamber. The orgy of violence that followed was decidedly one sided and as she watched, her demons and the fear of these evil creatures evaporated like dew on a hot summer morning. Her god literally decimated the infidels, breaking their bodies and their magic with contemptuous ease. They were insects before his might, and he crushed them with efficient precision. Every move was an economy of motion. Every hit had its purpose. Nacacia watched enthralled by his movements, utilizing the sharp mind and eidetic memory she'd been blessed with to capture this physical demonstration of her new deity's dogma. There was no waste, there was only decisiveness. There was no show boating, only cold efficiency in defense of another.

The priestesses of Lloth ran before his might. The sheer unrelenting terror of his cold, perfectly harnessed, rage drove them out of their unholy temple and into the streets of the foul Karsolythiyl. She followed him as he marched onward, dragging the still screaming matron behind him. Nacacia watched as her former tormentor literally withered into madness beneath the purifying flames of his divinity. The drow matron clawed ineffectually at his arm and wrist, and when that did not avail her, she tore at her eyes trying to escape the perfect brightness of his aura. Nacacia bore witness as he delivered each broken slave, regardless of race and creed. Their chains, like her own, melted away granting them freedom. Some stood, uncertain as to how they should proceed. Others followed in her god's wake, picking up the weapons discarded by their former masters and seeking to avenge themselves on the fleeing drow. Nacacia ignored their ingratitude in favor of bearing witness as Glauenthiel lifted up those crippled beneath the cruel hands of these vile creatures of evil. Their wounds were healed at his touch, or at the touch of his fiery aura. And those that he healed fell in step behind her, adding their testimonies to her own.

The young half-elf would later testify, along side her brothers and sisters that were rescued that day, of her lord and master's unerring dedication; of how he sought out each and every one of those poor half-elven children – regardless of age or parentage. No matter where they were, or the cruelty of their circumstances, he found them. Slave and sacrifice, prisoner and prey, young and healthy or old and infirm; it didn't matter. She would recount with adoration of his compassion as he lifted each one up from the darkness, filling them with the light of his hope with but a small smile as he shattered the bonds that held them within the suffocating darkness.

It was incredible to witness him purge the drow city. His vengeance was a roaring flame that scoured the dark metropolis of evil. The shadows could not hide any from his sight, and he brought low each and every foe that challenged him. Yet, all those acts paled in comparison to the final confrontation with the Spider Queen's champion. Selvetarm himself appeared in the midst of the ruined city to challenge her god's might. Nacacia stood amongst her brothers and sisters, and those other worthies that were freed from the tyranny of the drow that day and watched as the Spirit Sentinel humbled the Spider that Waits with frightening ease.

The battle turned fierce then, as Selvetarm rallied, but Glauenthiel never hesitated. Reality was torn asunder by their blows, yet her savior never faltered in his protection of those unable to protect themselves. The Champion of Lloth cursed him and his fell weapons spilt his blood, and just when it seemed her lord was lost, Nacacia and her new family witnessed his indomitable will perform the impossible. He routed the Bastard of Webs and broke him before his dread queen's faithful. He pinned the warrior god's dark and handsome form, shaking the foundations of the drow city and causing more than a few drow citadels to shatter and crumble. The vile god shifted, transforming himself into a hideously demonic spider, but Glauenthiel smote his foe again and again, breaking his eight legs and spearing him to a giant stalagmite at the heart of Karsolythiyl.

Selvetarm cursed him, foul and long, before retreating back to his dark home to nurse his wounds and plot revenge. And in his wake the drow wailed and gnashed their teeth in despair at the betrayal. Nacacia and her new family cheered as the dark elves scattered, driven from their city by the might of the Spirit Sentinel. And when he turned to them, bleeding from his many wounds, they knelt as one in reverence before him. He bid them rise and when they did, he looked to their wounds; and his blood bathed them, marking them as his.

Nacacia traced the contours of the sigil that now blessed her flesh, setting the shape of the circle bisected by a curving line to memory. She and the others would leave this place of horrors behind, but they would forever remember the price their god paid to free them. For Nacacia, she would always remember his strong embrace and the whispered words he shared with her. They would define her for the rest of her long life.

"You're family now, and family looks out for one another."

She would hear stories and encounter more refugees freed from the drow and the other dark races of the Underdark by the Spirit Sentinel. These refugees had other names for him: Ranma Weavebender, Shadowbinder, Chancedancer, Guuruk the Destroyer, the Lord of Change. But in the end they all called him Father, and in turn she called them family. It would take two long years to gather these faithful into a strong community, but the bastion of hope that they became would last many life times.

**************

Sembia had survived.

It was saying something too, considering the amount of collateral damage that had befallen the country side. Miraculously, no one (save a few nests of Shar's most faithful) died as the country was quickly, if accidentally, conquered. By the time El had gathered Valor and Koneko-chan from his bunker, all of the merchant lords were assembled on bended knee before Ranma-chan and her Furies, waiting for the punishment of one rather infamous Hogrhim Aporos. The fool had tried to escape again, but had been quickly caught, trussed up, gagged, and presented to Ranma-chan like some sick nameday gift. First among the assembly were his father and mother, still begging forgiveness for their offspring's stupidity and pleading for clemency in the fool's punishment.

Ranma-chan, sitting distractedly on a throne conjured by one of her Furies, accepted the pleas magnanimously and in a fit of ironic justice cursed Hogrhim to be an unearthly attractive and buxom woman for the rest of her natural life. She and her family immediately fled for their lives as a lynch mob formed in the wake of Ranma-chan's divine retribution, to drive them from the borders of Sembia.

The hopes of appeasing the avatar were quietly dashed, as the Council of Sembia ignored Ranma-chan's every protest of being their queen. All of her denials seemed to drive the former ruling class to further heights in their vain attempts to jockey for her majesty's favor. Every time they spilled the dirty laundry of their rivals, Ranma-chan cringed. Every time they presented her with new and more elaborate gifts, she grimaced. Of course, the warring merchants seemed to misinterpret these expressions, and sought to rectify the situation in the only way they knew how – they hired assassins to eliminate the problem. Thus it was, by the end of the first tenday, all of the Merchant Lords had slaughtered each other under the shell-shocked gaze of their new ruler.

Wynn was the root of the problem as far as Ranma-chan was concerned. Since the young, overly eager disciple had gotten her into this mess, she was damn well going to deal with the majority of the headaches. For El, it came as no surprise that she pressed the weight of governing of Sembia on the shoulders of the young woman. He would have done the same thing had he been in her shoes.

The old mage would have found the whole scene even more amusing if he wasn't quietly restraining Koneko-chan from slipping her harness in the shadows of what was left of the Great Hall of the Council of Sembia. Valor, somehow, maintained her perch atop his head throughout the entire struggle; even after the harness finally snapped and irreverently sent the elderly archmage to his buttocks with a loud huff. The noise of his fall was enough to draw attention his way, and inevitably to Koneko-chan who promptly buried Ranma-chan beneath her weight.

It wasn't the way that he'd hoped to introduce the disparate soul fragments, but then again…was there truly a perfect way to do something like that? He didn't think so.

Sadly, the soul fragments did not fuse as El had expected, leaving the Magister to flounder under the weight of the combined gazes of Ranma-chan and her Furies. The avatar was laughing and giggling under the purring of Koneko-chan's affections, but even so, she still had enough control to wrangle the physical personification of the Neko-ken into some semblance of restraint. When Ranma-chan finally spoke, the Magister felt Doom quietly dance up and down his spine.

"What. The. Hell?"

Elminster blinked, patted himself down just to make certain that all the important bits were still there, and offered a quick prayer of gratitude to Mystra when they were. Ranma-chan simply leveled a heavy-lidded stare his way, prompting another spontaneous spine-shiver.

"Well, uh, ye see…" Elminster mentally cursed in every language, dead and alive, that he could readily think of – which was a bit strange considering he couldn't rightly think of much else. It was strange how this was playing out. He'd rehearsed this conversation a number of times, preparing himself for this very meeting, but for the life of him, he couldn't dredge up a single sentence to save his life. He could swear in Abyssal, Draconic, Halruuan, Elvish, Orcish, Dwarvish, and Abeoleth; but for the love of Mystra, he couldn't remember what he'd planned to say in this very pivotal and life-altering meeting. So he settled for speaking his mind.

"Bugger."

"'_Bugger?'_" Ranma-chan repeated. El nodded dutifully and shrugged.

"I think that about sums the situation up nicely." He felt very clever. He'd been alive for a very long time but, standing here as he was, he felt like a gangly youth caught daydreaming by his father all over again.

"Let me help you out here, Aumar-san." Ranma-chan scratched a spot behind Koneko-chan's ear causing a low rumble to echo throughout the throne room. "I'll ask you a question, and you provide a simple and concise answer. How does that sound?"

"Smashing!" El approved. At the very least it would jumpstart his stalled brain.

"Good. Now then, who is this?"

"Koneko-chan."

"Koneko-chan…very original." Ranma nodded her head with a very strained smile. "Now, why does she look like me?"

"Oh, well, that's easy. It's because the lass is a physical manifestation of a part of thy soul."

"My soul?" Ranma raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Aye. Thy soul." El answered helpfully.

"Let me take a stab at guessing which part. The Neko-ken?"

El nodded eagerly.

"You know how she got separated, or why she's a _she_?"

El stroked his beard nervously. For all his experience in dialoguing and answering the multitude of questions that his apprentices brought to him on the deeply arcane, the aged wizard wasn't sure how to approach this one – not because the answer was difficult to explain, but because he really didn't know. How'd he let something that important slip by him?

"Well…that is to say…erhm…."

"You don't have a clue, do you?"

"Not a one." El admitted.

Ranma-chan shrugged nonchalantly and stood, causing Koneko-chan to gracefully slide to the floor on all fours. The catgirl purred happily as she rubbed her cheek against Ranma-chan's leg before settling to groom herself.

"So, what _do_ you know, Elminster of Mystra?" Ranma settled herself back into the comfortable throne, draping one leg over an arm rest and propping her elbow on the other. "From what I can tell, you've come a long way to seek me out."

"Aye." El admitted. "I've been tasked by one of thy Sisters, to aid ye."

"Sisters?"

"Aye." El fished around in his robes for the card he'd been given oh, so long ago, and passed it off to Ranma.

"Kinhon'I, Goddess First Class, Unlimited. Department of Divine Auditing." Ranma frowned. "Never heard of her. Why'd she send you?"

El did more fishing, pulling various objects from bottomless pockets and grumbling a great deal, before producing a very worn contract. He cleared his throat and began to read.

"Elminster Aumar, Magister of the Weave, Chosen of Mystra. You are hereby charged with the following, in regards to one Saotome Ranma (Aliases include but not limited to: The Weavebender, Erwyndolyn the Lady of Change, Shade Killer, Soul Stealer, The Unbreakable, Glauenthiel The Well of Souls, Guuruk The Destroyer, Wild Mage): In the first and the last, to mentor Saotome Ranma in the intricacies of life, love, magic, and various sundries. To act as guide and protector of the same, and aid the new deity in any manner or matter that may present itself."

El carefully folded the contract and replaced it in the depths of an inner pocket of his robe, before looking at the young goddess on her throne.

"That's a pretty steep order." Ranma admitted, resting her chin in her palm. El nodded and smiled.

"Aye, but I look to discharge it as best I'm able." He bowed at the knee smoothly. "Till death and probably beyond, I am thy servant. Command me."

"What did you do?"

The question totally derailed El's expectations and his thoughts. The confusion on the faces of Ranma's Furies must have matched his own, because Ranma clarified her question.

"This sort of thing doesn't just happen, you know, getting assigned as a teacher to a newly appointed goddess and all." El nodded. It was true enough. "So what did you do to be chosen for this assignment? Did you have to apply, or go on some crazy quest, or something?"

The Magister was caught flatfooted for a moment, before blushing and scratching the back of his neck nervously. He debated lying for all of an instant, before remembering just who and what he was going to be lying to. The fact that he already been "blessed" by Fendrellinor, he had no desire to see what punishments Ranma's hand might dish out, particularly after seeing what had happened to the Aporos boy…er woman. He sighed in defeat and presented Ranma-chan with the itemized bill that Kinhon'I had presented him and watched in dread as the scarlet haired goddess read.

He watched as her mouth began to twitch. The twitch became a smirk, which evolved into a grin, which turned into a smile, and the smile gave way to laughter. Not a chuckle mind you, but a full blown gut wrenching belly laugh. The funny thing was…the laughter wasn't directed at him. It seemed to be something else entirely. El couldn't help but chuckle along with the goddess.

"Oh! Oh! That was great!" Ranma cleared the tears from her eyes with the back of a delicate hand. "I always wondered if I was the only one that had ever happened to. Bein' billed for staring at someone's boobs! Nabiki's going to be pissed someone's horning in on her racket!"

Elminster shook his head in relief and wonder. At least he wasn't alone in being charged. Someone else knew his pain.

"Well, get up Elminster. We've much to do, and you're going to help me figure out how to do it!"

The Chosen of Mystra did as he was commanded.

"What is thy bidding, my Master?"

Ranma snorted and leapt from her throne.

"Stow it, Vader."

El winced at the light punch to his shoulder.

"You're going to help me find my other half…"

"Third." El mumbled automatically, earning himself another punch. He rubbed the already forming bruise tenderly, vowing to keep his fool mouth shut from here on out.

"…after which we're going to hunt down that stupid bint, Shar, and make her sorry for ever being conceived."

Great. First day on the job and he was already waging war on a goddess. He wanted to cry. He really did. But in the end, all he could do was scratch behind Koneko's ears and listen to the new and inventive ways that Ranma-chan planned on making Shar pay for splitting her soul up.

Some days, El felt sorry he was ever conceived. Damn his parents for fools. He wished they'd never…well, you know….

Damn it all to the Abyss! He was even starting to think like a pre-teen magical cat-girl!

**************

Candlekeep

The Avowed were the monks of Candlekeep. Their stewardship was the protection and proliferation of knowledge throughout the realms of Abeir-Toril. At the head of this Biblio-monastary was the Keeper of the Tomes, one Ulraunt. A wizard of some considerable power and intellect, and with the hauteur and sticky self-importance that generally comes from gaining such power. Gaining admittance to the library fortress was nigh impossible, until Ellosin stepped in and brokered a deal with the Keeper of Tomes.

Keiichi wasn't sure he liked the bargain, but translating a few books for the sake of access to the knowledge he needed was a small price to pay. Ulraunt had insisted on a test, to ensure that Keiichi had both the power and ability to translate any language, dead or otherwise. Therefore, the Innovator found himself barricaded in a room for half a day, surrounded by texts and bid to read and translate passages from the lot of them. Ulraunt seemed hell-bent on disproving him, dropping book after book in front of him and forcing him to read a paragraph here or a line there. Scrolls came next, most of them seeming to be arcane in nature, but more than a few were odds and ends spanning cooking instructions to a treatise on the care and grooming of something called Cranium Rats. The idea of a swarm of rats that were telepathically linked in a hive mind sent shivers down Keiichi's spine. Who in their right mind would want to keep a pack of rats that grow more intelligent with greater numbers?

The concept was more than a little upsetting for Keiichi, but he'd had little time to dwell on the thought before Ulraunt slid another text in front of him. This one was written on leaves, of all things, and the rather risqué topic had both wizard and translator blushing after only three words. It wasn't until late afternoon that Ulraunt was at last satisfied, and Keiichi was finally freed from the torment. He was immediately given a key to a room, and instructions for his first translation which would begin before dawn the next morning. He would have to translate at minimum, five books in order to pay for his group's stay. It would take time, but Keiichi had an idea of how to speed things up just a bit.

The machine wouldn't be pretty, but slapping together a voice activated typewriter seemed much faster than using a scribe. He had heard from Ellosin that Candlekeep had their own printing press, so it shouldn't be too hard to acquire the type slugs and ink. There was a glut of paper and parchment to be found throughout the fortress, so that wouldn't be a problem either. The plans for his newest machine were coming together, and he'd entered a meditative state that would have his newest creation built in less than three hours time. Sure he'd missed the welcoming dinner Ulraunt had set for him and the more prominent guests, but that hadn't bothered Keiichi at all. He wasn't even really hungry to begin with. Ulraunt had acted offended at first, until he saw one of his Avowed testing the machine. After that, all was forgiven.

Arrangements were quickly made to move the Auto-writer into a private study, and Keiichi asked for the first text he was meant to translate. The rest of the night was spent reading and fine tuning the Auto-writer to ensure an acceptable final copy of the translation. The second day was spent in much the same way, reading aloud the translation, while the Auto-writer created a readable text. The only difference was Ulraunt's insistence that Keiichi tour Candlekeep in the early afternoon. Maerdith was adamant about bringing him breakfast and lunch, and sat next to him until he'd eaten every last crumb. Others had interrupted his work numerous times with their curiosity, which inspired him to create a pause function for the Auto-writer and a "Do Not Disturb" sign for his door. He was tired of his dictation being shanghaied by some fearful scribe trying to get a look at their mechanical replacements.

In the end, the first, second, and third books were done within the first three nights of their stay in the keep. The press of time weighed him down to such an extent that he had approached the soft spoken Tethtoril, Candlekeep's First Reader, for aid in his reason for being here in the first place. Keiichi found the First Reader to be more intelligent, regal, and sensitive than his superior; and from the manner in which Ulraunt treated the cleric of Mystra, the Keeper of Tomes knew that fact all too well. Yet Tethtoril seemed indomitably patient and unfailingly loyal to his duties as the First Reader.

His thoughtfulness surprised Keiichi on the first morning after Ulraunt's rabid testing. The cleric presented Keiichi with warm blankets, reams of cut parchment for the Auto-writer, and hot sweet rolls from the kitchens with the tome the Innovator was meant to translate. He made himself approachable and was more diligent in his duties than just about anyone he knew. Their friendship was fast built and honestly deeper on many levels than just about any other male relationship Keiichi had. It was due to this, more than anything else that Keiichi trusted Tethtoril with his quest. The results were just as surprising to Keiichi, as the Auto-writer had been to the whole of Candlekeep.

Logs and histories detailing the Time of Troubles were at the top of the stack, a treatise about the cosmology of Toril was buried somewhere beneath all of that, and a number of massive volumes about portals, doorways, and passage to different worlds were towards the bottom. The most unusual source of information however, was the crystal skull perched precariously atop the tower of books and scrolls. Tethtoril called the magical artifact a Mimir, and described it as a magical repository concerning certain subjects. It was an interactive encyclopedia of sorts that had come into the keep's possession by way of a Plane Walker. Keiichi wasn't sure just what that was, but he felt that by the time he'd gone through the material Tethtoril had provided him with, he most certainly would.

The problem he had now was time. There just wasn't enough of it, and he certainly needed more. The First Reader sympathized and had offered to cast a localized variant of the Time Stop spell. However, the magic was taxing and it wouldn't last too terribly long. He'd also asked Keiichi if he were up to a little experimentation, and once the Innovator had agreed, used both Time Stop and an empowered Haste spell on both Keiichi and the Auto-writer. The results were spectacular, with Keiichi finishing the rest of his duty to Candlekeep in a day, but had resulted in the Auto-writer exploding.

Ulraunt had not been happy, but Keiichi and Tethtoril were able to head off the building rant with promises not to repeat the experiment inside the castle proper. Keiichi even promised to build a new and improved version of the Auto-writer for Castlekeep. Ulraunt, thinking of the money and prestige such a device would bring to the castle, and through that, to him; accepted their apologies and went on his way. From then on, Keiichi forwent sleep altogether, and only ate one in five of the meals that Maerdith brought him. He became lost in the tomes and in questioning the Mimir. He digested collected folktales, mythologies, and any supplements where traveling to the homes of the gods had been mentioned. Yet, out of all of the sources provided to him, three stood out above the others: Magalager's Manual to the Planes, the Mimir, and Bantrice's Primer to the Outlands.

"Studying hard I see?"

Keiichi looked up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and blinked tiredly.

"You look like hell, young man. You should really start taking better care of yourself."

Before him sat a familiar person, someone that he'd met once, but didn't recognize right away. He was a handsome man, and his clothing was modest and well kept, yet elegant at the same time. His dark hair and curiously verdant eyes shone with something…more than human. Before him sat an immense tome, situated as either a barrier or a bridge between them; Keiichi wasn't certain which it was meant to be. It was opened to reveal pages that had long ago turned gold with age. No. No, they were gold!

That sparked a long buried memory.

"Ty. Ty Binder!"

"It does a heart good to be remembered." The Avatar of Oghma laughed. "I do however, restate the obvious: you look terrible. When was the last time you took a break?"

"What is today?" Keiichi rubbed his hand over his face tiredly.

"The day you're taking a break." Ty smiled and motioned at a tray behind Keiichi.

The young man took the hint and stepped away from the reading table long enough to get a roll and a flagon of water. Ty shook his head and pushed Keiichi back to the overflowing tray. Keiichi was quickly inspired to fill a plate to brimming before moving back to his place at the reading table.

"Young Maerdith has been pouring her heart and soul out to me for two days straight over you. The least I can do for her is check up on you, and I'm glad I did. You might be something more than mortal now, but you are not indestructible."

"What can I say? I've been busy." Keiichi shrugged and motioned to the stacks of books and scrolls littered around the room.

"Busy is not an excuse to ignore life, Keiichi." Ty held up his hand to stop the young man's protests. "I know about your deadline, and even that doesn't justify terrifying your friends and faithful."

"Well, I wouldn't have to if someone had a map to Cynnosure!" Keiichi whined.

"You've been given enough help, Keiichi. You can't expect everyone to hold your hand through this process. Nor can you expect to be handed everything on a silver platter."

"I'm not asking them to. I'm just asking for a little more direction."

"There are people who have been in your shoes before this, Keiichi. Azuth is a prime example. He worked and bled for the opportunity to become what he is."

"What do you call all of this then?" Keiichi motioned to the tomes around him.

"A start." Ty grinned. "But you must remember not to become lost in the search. It's not like someone made a map for you to follow. You're talking about the gathering place for the gods here, Keiichi. They wouldn't exactly want mortals popping in on them unannounced and uninvited. The parents need a night away from the children every once in a while."

"I don't doubt it." He tiredly rubbed his temples. "But I can't see why I would be given an impossible task to perform."

"Every father has a right to set impossible tasks for their future son-in-law – its tradition."

Keiichi laughed and nodded.

"Seriously Keiichi, this is a test. One that you need to solve on your own. You're a big boy now, and as you know growing up changes who we are physically, as much as it changes how we perceive the world around us. Just remember that not all tests are straightforward. Some tests don't simply focus on just one thing. You know this."

Keiichi nodded and slumped back into his chair.

"You have all the knowledge you need, Keiichi." Ty rose from his chair and slipped his book under an arm. "What you need now is perspective and wisdom."

"Couldn't this be construed as helping me?"

"No. I'm answering my daughter's prayer. She begged me to ensure your health, and give you direction. This has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her. You need to learn to recognize the distinction. The universe doesn't revolve around mortal or god; we're simply cogs in the great wheel." Ty paused at the door of Keiichi's room and leveled a stern and weighted gaze on the young man. "She loves you Morisato. She loves you as much as she loves me. To her, I am a father. But you, you are something intimately more. She wants to be close to you in a way she never wanted to be close to me."

He smiled sadly.

"You know what?" He asked lightly. "This is the second disciple you've stolen from me."

"Second?"

"I wasn't always known as Oghma, and time doesn't always flow at the rate you perceive."

The statement was as mysterious as it was troubling, but Keiichi had no response as the god slipped through the door and disappeared.

Keiichi thought on those words long after Ty had left. He thought about those words well beyond the rising of the sun, until at last he came to acknowledge that his mysterious friend was right; he was growing up and the world around him had become very different by virtue of that change. He had people that depended on him, and his selfishness had no doubt hurt them. They had followed him, changed and sacrificed for him, had given up home and family to be with him. And what does he do? Loses himself in a personal quest at their expense. As much as they had changed for him, he knew that he had changed just as much. They were changing him in subtle ways day in and day out.

But how? How was he different?

He knew things now that he shouldn't. That was the first and most obvious change he saw in himself. Skuld's gifts had opened a whole new universe to him. Ostensibly it was to aid with Duncan's problems, but in the end it had helped him more than it had aided his dear friend. Urd's gifts had been, well he still wasn't one hundred percent sure what her "Super Potion" had done to him. Bell's gift of love had been all the inspiration he needed to do his best, but there was more to her blessing than he understood. He knew that for a fact.

Still, things had changed even more for him since the Festival of Creation. His senses had become even sharper than they had been and, every once in a while, he could swear that he felt the emotions and desires of his followers; especially when they were working on a project.

He could readily recognize the needs of others, regardless of their connection to him or not. It was how he knew Ulraunt was so insecure underneath all that bravado and arrogance. And now that Ty had mentioned it, he felt Maerdith's need to be near him in intimate and excruciating detail. But sensing the needs of others wasn't all; he intuitively understood how to address or solve those needs. Giving Ulraunt a problem that he alone must solve would invariably build his confidence. If that problem forced him to serve others with compassion, his pride would slowly melt away. It seemed though that Ulraunt's solution was the easiest to effect. Returning Maerdith's love seemed impossible if he was to remain true to Belldandy; yet if he didn't, she would eventually turn bitter and lose faith in not only him, but Oghma as well. So many problems started to surface, now that he wasn't completely focused on finding a way to Cynnosure.

It made him realize that he'd become connected to, and his eyes had been opened to, the world around him in startling new ways. Even now, he could hear the pangs of someone in despair over saving their daughter from the ravages of an unknown disease. He didn't know the woman, but he could feel her and her troubles reaching out to him through the thick walls of the keep, as she slept in an inn about a mile from the fortress. And it was only getting worse.

He stood and began pacing the room. Intellectually he knew that there were too many problems to solve, yet emotionally he wanted to help all these people. Was this part of the test? Was he meant to struggle over which problems to solve, and which to allow to solve themselves? That certainly seemed like a godly dilemma. Yet, his instructions were very clear; he was to be in Cynnosure by a certain time in order to meet with Him. That wasn't an interview you could be late to by any means. So, this could also be a test of obedience. Could he do what he was told, when there was a chance for him to help those around him?

Keiichi continued to pace the floor, idly fingering a rogue screw that had somehow found its way into his pockets.

Binder said that he had all the knowledge that he needed in order to complete his task; what he was lacking was perspective. He definitely needed to step away from the problem. As it was, his nose was pressed so hard against the mirror he couldn't see his face for all the pink. Keiichi sighed and snatched the screw out of the air again.

Tomorrow he would help out around the castle. If that didn't clear his head and give him some inspiration, then he would sit down with Maerdith and Tethtoril and discuss what he knew. They might have a better understanding of what he needed to do.

**************

Silverymoon

The trip to gather Susan Sto Helit, the Duchess of Sto Helit – who was also referred to on occasion as "Susan Death", was nothing short of weird. It had been weird from the very mention of Susan's name, and because of that Serenity had done everything in her power to avoid the excursion altogether. Sadly, she only managed to postpone the adventure for all of a week, by claiming a need to rest and recover from all of the shocks that she had experienced. The excuse went only so far with Alassra.

On the tenth day of her recovery, the Simbul marched into Serenity's bedroom and drug her from beneath the covers by the ankle. She was subsequently bathed, dressed, and primped, over the course of an hour under the baleful gaze of her older sisters. All of whom were more than tired of her hiding from her future. It was one thing to acknowledge her new station in life; it was another to whole-heartedly accept it.

Her sisters, however, seemed hell-bent on dragging her kicking and screaming into that future; a future that seemed to start with meeting this Susan person. This inevitably led Serenity to scurrying behind Alassra and Laeral as they literally flowed through the halls of Alustriel's castle. She'd asked where this Susan person lived, but the only response she'd gotten was "On the Disc.", which quite frankly was less than helpful. When she'd asked what the woman was like, Laeral only smiled mysteriously and told her to "Wait and see." – as if Serenity had ever been one for patience!

It was like that with the entire conversation. She would ask a question, and it would be deflected. The whole situation made her want to scream and pull her hair! If it weren't for the fact that they were standing outside of a heavy, very menacing, rune covered door at the moment, she might have done just that. Thankfully, for her own sense of pride, if for no other reason, Serenity's attention was drawn to Alassra and the sudden flood of power the woman was putting out.

The Door, Serenity would later learn, was one of many secret portals throughout Silverymoon, which led to another Plane, world, or dimension. The concept was fairly simple to understand; she'd seen Disney's Alice in Wonderland as a child. There were doorways into new and magical lands, hidden everywhere. You just had to meet the right requirements to pass through them. Serenity watched in awe as her big sister proceeded to meet the requirements to pass through this one.

Alassra cut her index finger and began chanting while drawing eight symbols over and over across the frame of the massive door. Each glyph flashed through a rainbow of seven colors, until at last they settled on an eighth color that really wasn't a color at all. It was something altogether different. It was something akin to a taste, but it had a weight to it as well. Serenity's mind was having real trouble connecting with it.

"Octerine." Laeral supplied. "It's the source of magic on the Disc. Don't worry, you'll get used to it quick enough."

Serenity nodded, lost but accepting. She felt that adopting that attitude was going to save her a lot of headaches in the future.

In no time at all Alassra finished her chant, and there was an oddly uninspired and quiet out of place "click" of a lock opening that seemed altogether too meek for a door of such size and magnificence. Serenity found herself quite let down by the rather anti-climatic experience. The Simbul simply grinned and shrugged.

"It's like most men, when you think about it. Most are all form and little function…" Alassra wriggled her eyebrows suggestively, and was rewarded by an intense blush from Serenity at the implied metaphor. This, of course caused both sisters to erupt in laughter as Alassra grabbed the door's handle and pulled.

The smell that bum-rushed Serenity's nostrils was like being sucker punched in the gut. To say that it was foul was like saying ice cream was merely good. The Silver Princess would soon learn, against her wishes, that the unenviable smell was a highly potent mix of many things; mainly the surreptitious decay of just about everything in Ankh-Morpork mixed with a bit of silt and even less water. The source of the smell was the mighty river Ankh and the press of just about every citizen in the twin cities. If her sisters had given her the time, she would have added the sweet tang of her own vomit to the mix.

Fortunately, they didn't ease their rapid pace in the least. Instead they pushed through the crowds and weaved through the street vendors with practiced ease and a grace that came with urban familiarity. It took them the better part of an hour to navigate the streets in order to finally arrive at the _very_prestigious Frout Academy. Serenity wasn't so certain it was _very_ prestigious, but the large brass plaque proclaimed it to be _very_ prestigious – it even italicized and underlined "very" just to make certain that everyone else understood that it was _very_prestigious. So, in effect, it must be _very_prestigious indeed. Had the smell of the city not been producing a very massive migraine in the Silver Princess, she would have openly wondered what made the academy _very_ prestigious. Thankfully, her throbbing head made it a point to bludgeon her curiosity into a nice puddle of goo that rather resembled something that Serenity was standing in at that very moment.

Alassra pulled the thick cord of the door bell, and in only a few minutes time they were shuffled into the vestibule by a doorman. With a negligent wave of her hand, Laeral cleaned the muck and grime from their clothes; something that Serenity vowed to learn as soon as possible. In no time at all, the trio was ushered to the Headmistress' office.

Upon meeting Madam Frout, Serenity noted one thing right off the bat. The woman was a jolly sort, very easy going and rather soft on discipline. In effect she was the worst sort of teacher, but a wonderfully nice woman all the same. They were served tea and biscuits and it took very little effort for Alassra to negotiate an exchange of sorts for the services of one Susan Sto Helit.

Madam Frout seemed quite pleased with the transaction; wherein Miss Susan would act as an instructor on sabbatical for an indeterminate amount of time, while the school would receive a most generous donation that would no doubt put them in the black for the next ten years or so. The only sticking point that the Headmistress insisted upon was that Alassra explain the deal to Miss Susan herself. That, in itself, seemed a bit odd to Serenity; after all, what employer was afraid of speaking to their employee? Serenity had a short while to ponder that idea while an assistant was sent to fetch Miss Susan.

When the woman finally arrived, Serenity noted a few things immediately. The first was that Susan Sto Helit was a slightly built woman, very attractive in a skinny sort of way. The second and probably more notable upon first glance, was her pure white hair with the stark, black streak running through it. It was pulled back into a frizzy bun that was reminiscent of a dandelion or a stacked mushroom. On anyone else, such a thing would have seemed ludicrous – on Susan, it seemed perfectly natural in an untamed sort of way. The overall affect, gave her an ageless appearance, reminding the Silver Princess of a more severe and mysterious Setsuna…if that was even possible.

Serenity noted that she took everyone in the room at a glance. She might have lingered on Alassra and Laeral for an instant longer than anyone else, but her attention was fully riveted to the Headmistress at the end. This of course made Madam Frout squirm in her chair quite uncomfortably. Serenity could sympathize. The young woman had this way about her; she had a look that had weight to it and a manner of giving you her _full attention_ that made people wish she wasn't.

"Good afternoon, Susan." Madam Frout began. She was immediately cut off.

"You summoned me, Headmistress."

"Er…Yes. That is…" The Headmistress fumbled and cringed. Alassra came to the woman's rescue.

"It is good to see you again, Susan."

"Simbul." Susan replied evenly. "Laeral."

"Oh, pooh! Susan, must you be so stuffy?" Laeral pouted. "We come all this way, after positively ages of being away, and this is how you greet old friends?"

"You left me stranded in the middle of Klatch."

"With a treasury full of chocolate and an army of handsome young men to wait on you hand and foot; eager to fulfill every sordid little desire your rather sensible heart could imagine." Alassra pointedly added. Susan blushed, revealing an odd birthmark on her cheek that consisted of three diagonal, finger-like slashes. "One would think you were ungrateful."

Madam Frout choked on her tea at the image of someone as prim and proper as Susan having her own harem of young and virile men.

"Why am I here?" Susan's voice struggled to compose itself, while she tried to get the meeting back on track and well away from embarrassing topics such as harems and chocolate.

"We have come to hire out your services." Laeral smiled as she fingered a biscuit. "Our baby sister is in dire need of a more expansive education, and we of course require the best of teachers."

Susan turned her gaze to Serenity and seemed to weigh her; from the tips of her hair, to the very depths of her soul.

"I see." Her voice was even. "And what of my contract with the Academy?"

"We have negotiated a hold on your contract with Madam Frout, until Serenity's education is complete. You will of course be provided room and board with Alustriel, receive suitable pay for your efforts, and an allowance for supplies. You will be given every tenth day off, to do with as you please; and I was instructed to inform you that Mr. Lobsang is more than welcome to visit at _any _time."

Susan blushed again under the scrutiny, but pressed forward stoically.

"What topics will I be teaching?"

"The standard fare: history, geography, the sciences – political and otherwise, mathematics, logic, philosophy, temporal mechanics, metaphysical studies, so-on-and-so-forth." Laeral waved her hand dismissively. "To be truthful, you will have a great deal of freedom in developing your own curriculum and hiring other tutors to fill in where needed. Our only desire is for Serenity to be prepared for the rigors of governing and become a well rounded woman of her _unique_ station."

Susan frowned at the word "unique", but nodded thoughtfully.

"Might I assume you wish me to introduce her to Grandfather?"

"It would be ideal." Alassra smiled sympathetically. "According to my understanding of things, she has already met your grandfather's younger brother a time or two – so some perspective might help a bit. Still, we shouldn't wish to impose too much on you. If you think it will help, then by all means introduce her, if not…well, in the end, we have complete confidence in your abilities and methodology."

Susan nodded and again looked to Serenity. The Eighth Sister tried and failed not to squirm under the scrutiny.

"She does exude a great deal of potential." Susan admitted. "And if nothing else, I can at least ensure that one of you lot is sensible. What is the time frame of this endeavor?"

"Realistically, when she can demonstrate the ability to stand on her own two feet without aid; truthfully, I would say when you feel she is ready to stand on her own."

The severe young woman squared her shoulders and extended her hand to Alassra.

"I agree to your terms."

"Excellent!" Laeral clapped. "Shall we gather your things?"

Serenity watched in a daze as her older sisters shuffled Susan out of the Headmistress' office. They were a whirlwind of activity as they returned to her class and broke the news to a group of very disappointed children. Susan's stern scolding and short, but very effective, demand that the children keep up their studies while she was away was met with an energetic chorus of "Yes, Miss Susan!"

Susan wrote out a lesson plan for the rest of the year while Alassra and Laeral vanished with a promise to pack Susan's apartment and ensure the lease for her time away. This of course left Serenity tasked with distracting the children for the duration of the afternoon. She was bombarded with questions, most of which followed along the lines of:

"Are you a _real_ princess?"

"Are you a _magical_ princess?"

"Are you a magical _fairy _princess?

Susan simply eyed her, sending the explicit message that Serenity was to tell the truth, no matter how ludicrous the answers might sound to her children. It was the first and subsequently most important lesson Serenity learned. It didn't matter how much you might wish otherwise, but there was no point in trying to escape who and what you were. So, she answered the students to the best of her ability.

"Yes, I'm a real princess."

"Yes, I'm a magical princess." To which she was forced to prove it by performing a little magic for the class. It was only a practical demonstration of summoning a small, yet sensible ball of light, something that earned her a nod of approval from Susan, but it was a successful demonstration all the same.

"I'm not sure if being a princess of the moon counts as being a fairy princess."

The last of course earned her a number of skeptical looks, the golden crescent appearing on her brow seemed to appease their incredulity.

When they asked if she was in love with a magical prince, she blushed tomato red and nodded. Thankfully, they didn't ask for more details beyond: "Is he handsome?" and "Are you going to marry him?"

The first question was easy to answer. The fact that it applied to both Ranma and Mamoru left her feeling very uneasy and confused. While the second question left her feeling wistful and uncertain. Luckily, the class seemed content to spend the rest of the afternoon listening to her tell stories of her adventures in Faerun and on Earth. The tale of Beryl and her early adventures as a Senshi were very popular for some reason. By the time she finished, Laeral and Alassra had returned and school was almost finished for the day. Susan issued a homework assignment for the class to write a composition on what it would be like to be a prince or princess to be turned in at the end of the day. This was not accompanied with the expected groans that Serenity anticipated. Instead the boys and girls jumped at the opportunity.

When class finally ended, Susan collected the reports and bid goodbye to the children as they left one by one. The strict young woman did not demonstrate a great deal of obvious affection for her students, but it was plain that she cared. That, more than anything else, sparked a desire to work hard for this woman – if only to earn the same sense of fondness from her new teacher. It was the first time in her life that Serenity had any real desire to work hard at her studies; but she knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Susan would accept nothing less than her very best. It was yet another turning point in her life; one that would make her into something greater than she ever dreamed of becoming.

**************

Providence

Sefaril's Home

He was exhausted.

How long had it been since he'd felt that wonderful burn?

Too long obviously. He'd forgotten just how satisfying it was to push yourself to the extremes of your physical limits, and recognize the subtle growth you'd achieved. He might not have been divine all that long, but Ranma found himself missing the limitations of mortality. Overcoming challenges was a part of who and what he was, but lately there just hadn't been very many physical challenges that made him reach. It was funny, the saying was true.

You really didn't know what you had until it was gone.

But the workout that he'd just been through was fruitful in more ways than one. He pushed the envelope of his abilities, discovered new skills, and collected some new precious people. Nacacia alone made all the blood and bruises worthwhile. Her radiant smile and unwavering faith in him warmed his heart and gave him purpose. That's why he'd pressed on, searching out the others that had been oppressed. Sure it had taken days to make his way through the Underdark, and even then he had only barely scratched the surface for all his efforts. But, in that he'd experienced so many new things and over come so much. He couldn't wait to tell Sefaril about the adventure.

He'd faced all manner of foes, from summoned demons to deep dragon overlords, in his systematic search and rescue mission. The dark races that made their home deep in the earth were not in the mood to release their hold on their slaves and sacrifices, so Ranma was forced to persuade them. It had been a much needed challenge, somewhere that he could really cut loose without a need to really worry; especially with Spider Dork popping up at odd moments wanting a rematch. He had to admit the moron was better than anyone he'd fought to date. Herb relied on his heritage too much, Saffron had absolutely no subtlety whatsoever, and the less said about Taro, the better. Ryouga, even if he had any true power backing him, was just too predictable to really stomach. The others didn't even rate on his scale any more. So Ranma was glad that Spider Dork had his share of skill and talent. Absolutely no brains for strategy, but he did have skill.

It sucked that he was going to have to put him down hard.

Ranma could tell that Web Boy wasn't going to let things stand as they were. He'd keep coming, just like Ryouga did; but the big difference between Ryouga and the Eight-legged Wonder, was honor. Ryouga had a little (when it suited him) and Web Boy could care less. Some day, they were going to rumble again and Ranma's new rival would get the bright idea to put someone precious to him in jeopardy. It was only a matter of time before he tried to kill someone close to Ranma, if only to get the upper hand.

As much as he hated the thought of killing anyone, Ranma knew that Spider Dork was going press him until one of them was dead. Well, this Saotome had too much to do, to become spider food. The next time the Webbed Wonder came at him, Ranma wasn't going to hold back. He'd given the moron ample opportunity to back off and mind his own business, but the message hadn't sunk in. There would be no polite beat downs or hesitation in the future. The first chance he got, Ranma was going to finish it.

Permanently.

He sighed and fell onto Sefaril's couch. He didn't feel her in the house, which meant she must have been at the inn helping out. He pushed aside the odd feeling of emptiness in the home and closed his eyes. This was the first time he'd felt fatigued in a very long while. He'd take a short nap and then make his way over to the inn for some dinner. He might not need to eat any more, but that didn't mean he didn't enjoy the exercise.

Sleep came surprisingly quickly, and Ranma's dreams revolved around a grand chase through some far off city. It was strange being the one doing the chasing for a change. Usually it was him running from the hordes of angry and insane people; he almost felt sorry for the guy being chased.

Two more days passed as Ranma slept. His dreams fluctuated between the strange happenings in that far off city, and the young woman with the silver hair. But upon waking, he knew something was wrong. Providence felt…empty; he closed his eyes and opened his senses, letting his chi drift in and out of homes looking for signs of life. He found nothing but emptiness and silence; a ghost town where but days before a vibrant and living community had been. Panic seized him as he physically searched through each and every home.

They were gone…stolen. Someone had been stupid enough to steal _his_ people.

There was a weak taint in the shadows that was fading before his senses. He latched onto it, burning the ethereal scent in his mind's eye lest he somehow lose it. The trail leading out of Providence was already weak, but it was leading east. He needed to move quickly if he was going to track the trail.

**************

Sembia

Ranma-chan stormed through the marble halls of the palatial home that she had been given. The beauty and splendor of the mansion was lost on her, and even the laborers that were hanging off rafters and ladders, repairing the damage done by warring merchants, were ignored. Wynn Moreith struggled to keep pace at her side. The argument had been going for only a short time, but Ranma was already well beyond tired of it. Wynn had gotten to the point of begging for Ranma-chan to stay and lead the nation to some ambiguous utopia, but the young goddess was having none of it.

"Like hell! There's no way that I am taking over your mess, Wynn." Ranma-chan growled. "You opened your mouth and accepted this mess on my behalf. As far as I'm concerned that makes it your problem."

"But…" The young woman looked lost, and Ranma-chan felt like she was kicking a puppy, but the girl needed to learn that every action had consequences.

"No, Wynn. Those greedy no-good-bastards offered up the nation in order to save themselves from the larger threat. They didn't care about the people they represented, they were looking out for their own hides. If you hadn't opened your mouth and accepted their stupidity, we would have been on our way and they could have rebuilt."

"But with Sembia as a base your influence would grow rapidly! Think of all the temples that would be built in your name!"

"I don't care about that Wynn." Ranma-chan stopped dead in her tracks and shook her head.

"I do not understand. Why...?"

"Why don't I care?" Wynn nodded. "True power comes through hard work and a great deal of sacrifice. There are no short cuts to the Art. If you rely on crutches and quick fixes to solve your problems, you won't really be prepared for the power that you wield and it will eat you alive. What you did goes against the natural order. Come here."

Ranma lead her over to a tall ladder and gently pushed her up to it.

"Stand on the bottom rung." Wynn complied without question. "Good. Now I want you to reach up to the highest rung you are able."

The young woman stretched herself to the limits of her reach obediently.

"Now using only your arms I want you to pull yourself up to the top of the ladder."

Ranma-chan watched her young disciple struggle to comply with the command. Wynn was fit for her age, especially thanks to Ranma-chan's tutelage, yet for all of that she was still a young merchant's daughter from one of Sembia's minor factions. For the next twenty minutes she vainly fought her body's weakness in order to achieve the seemingly simple task that her new goddess had given her. Ranma-chan refused to say a word during this time, watching the young Fury fail time and time again. It wasn't until Wynn fell from the ladder in a weak and weeping mess that the neophyte goddess finally moved. Wrapping her arms around the trembling woman, Ranma-chan stroked her hair affectionately.

"When we reach too far beyond ourselves we fail. The same holds true for mortals and gods. We must know and respect our limits, if we are to push beyond them." Ranma-chan sighed. "I'm not ready to be responsible for the souls of a nation, Wynn. There is just too much that needs to be done right now. Hell, half the time I don't even know what I'm doing."

"But you are a goddess!" Wynn protested.

"Yeah, so? What does that have to do with anything? I've got more power to control and more responsibilities. I might have more knowledge, but that doesn't mean I have the wisdom to properly use it. Time and experience are what makes a person wise; god or man, it doesn't really matter." The passionate girl opened her mouth to interject, but Ranma lightly covered her mouth. "Wynn, you say you believe in me. What does that mean? What do you see that I stand for?"

"Greatness." The answer was automatic. "You have honed yourself to be the best of the best in the Art."

"Which Art?"

"My Lady?"

"Which Art, Wynn? Painting? Sculpture? Martial Arts? Magic? Music?" The girl looked utterly confused. "I am not the best at any of these things Wynn."

Ranma pointed up to a man repairing a sculpture.

"That man is Nicos Zora. He is forty five years old and has dedicated himself to his craft. He is a master, reputably one of the 'best of the best'. Does that make him great?" Ranma shook her head. "No. What makes him great, Wynn, is the fact that Nicos has lived his life passionately. He has five beautiful children, is still deeply in love with his wife, and eagerly wakes up almost every morning with a smile and an optimistic outlook. All of that passion and love is reflected in his craft."

Ranma sighed and frowned.

"Less than a year ago, I was mortal, Wynn. I was younger than you, saddled with more responsibility than I knew how to deal with, and walking the knife's edge between wanting to live and wanting to die. Every choice I made seemed to damn me, regardless of my intent. Then I came to Faerun, and by chance…chance! I touched the Weave for the first time. It was like riding the lightning and drowning in the forces of life and creation. By some miracle I survived and a curious series of unfortunate events unfolded, one after another, leading up to this moment. I didn't seek out godhood, Wynn. It was tossed in my lap through a number of knee-jerk reactions and one very big moment of Choice. And when the choice came between duty and self, I chose. Now I'm making the best of my choice, learning as I go, gaining the experience and wisdom I need to become better with each step. It's hard as hell; the hardest thing I've ever done, and it _keeps_ getting harder."

She sighed again and rested her head against Wynn's.

"Shar ripped me asunder. She tore my soul apart because I told her that I wasn't ready to deal with her. I didn't even tell her 'no' – I just said I wasn't ready. And because of that the slag took offense and ripped me asunder. So, here I am, trying to find myself, dealing with crap that's way beyond anything I've ever known, and you want me to take up a throne and rule a nation."

Ranma chuckled. Wynn's tears increased and the young woman clutched at her goddess desperately.

"Forgive me, Lady!"

Ranma resumed stroking the girl's hair.

"I forgive you, Wynn. We all make stupid mistakes in life. Heaven knows I've made a library full of them."

"How do I atone for this?"

"Well, what do you think would be the best way to fix this mess?"

"I do not know. With the merchant families warring against themselves, everything is in chaos."

"Nature can't stand vacuums." Ranma agreed. "Sooner or later someone is going to step into the void. The questions become: who, when, and how will they treat the people?"

"Oh, Lady! There are so many outside factions to fear! The Zhentarim, the Shadow Theives, Shar's clergy, or the faithful of some other deity!"

"And now you're startin' to see the big picture. I can't wave my hand and magically solve this problem. Well, maybe some of it, but the truth is what does that solve? How can you and the rest of Sembia become great, if I'm the one doing all the work? Have you ever seen a kid whose parents gave him everything he wanted?"

"Aporos?" Wynn ventured with a giggle.

"Aporos." Ranma nodded her head. "A man with no discipline and entitlement issues; just look at the mess he made! I care too much to let you become someone like that, Wynn. That is why I'm not stepping in. If you want Sembia to become a haven for my people, then you are going to have to put in the time and effort to achieve that dream. It'll cost you blood, sweat, and tears – and in the end you will sacrifice much, but I can see you achieving the dream."

"Will you support me?"

"When you absolutely need it, I'll be there. I ain't going to hold your hand or wipe your nose though. You're a big girl, Wynn. If you want this, then you will become who you need to be to achieve the dream."

"Where do I start?"

"It depends on the dream you want to achieve."

"What would you have me be?"

"Uh-uh. That's taking the easy way out, Wynn. I ain't going to tell you how to live your life. I had more than my share of that crap and I ain't continuing the tradition. The one and only thing that I want from you, is to be like Nicos over there. Live. Be happy. Make other people happy, and protect those who can't protect themselves. Be the best Wynn Moreith you can be. Nothing more and nothing less."

"So I could walk away and you wouldn't punish me?"

"I wouldn't have to, would I?" Ranma smiled into her hair and squeezed her close.

"No. I suppose you wouldn't." Wynn sighed. After a long silence, the girl threaded her fingers with Ranma-chan's. "This is going to be so hard. I don't even know where to start."

"Now you know how I feel."

"Without your backing or presence, the people aren't likely to listen to anything I say."

"I was raised to never turn down a challenge, because win or lose I would always gain something from the experience. If I won, I learned from my opponent's mistakes. If I lost, I would learn from mine and I would then change accordingly – which made it easier to win when I went back for a rematch. At the end of the day, I never lost; neither to myself, nor to the challenges that threatened me. Why? Because I never gave up. I always forced myself to learn."

"Then I too will find a way to meet this hardship and overcome."

"That's my girl." Ranma kissed her forehead and helped Wynn to her feet. "I'm leaving tomorrow, but before I go I'll say a few words and smooth some ruffled feathers. It ain't going to help much, so don't go getting your hopes up. I'll just be letting everyone know I'm leaving. Everything else will be on your shoulders."

"I understand, Lady."

Good. Now come on. I'm hungry."

The next day, Ranma did indeed make her announcement. It was broadcast throughout the whole of Sembia to every home and community. The news she was leaving the capital seemed to ease an unseen weight from the shoulders of the city's populace. The announcement that Wynn Moreith would be building a temple in her name from the gifts that had been bestowed upon her by the former merchant lords was received with mixed feelings. Wynn was shocked and the people were just a bit uneasy. Ranma might be leaving, but she wasn't forgetting them in the least.

The last announcement surprised everyone the most. Ranma refused to establish a government. She simply stated that the people should know how they wanted to be governed by now and suggested, with extreme emphasis, that the majority should decide. If they wanted a king or queen, then the people should choose one. If they wanted a theocracy, then the people should embrace it wholeheartedly. At the end of the day the choice, and the responsibility of the consequences surrounding that choice, was theirs and theirs alone. She refused to tell them how to live their lives. Ranma offered Wynn and her temple as a neutral party that would judge the will of the people, with an oath of truth and honor that the will of the majority would be followed – even if Ranma had to return herself and see it set in place.

This sudden freedom was strange, yet exciting for the people of Sembia. They had never really been given the opportunity to chart their own course before. This won Ranma-chan more than her fair share of believers that day. Among them was one Nicos Zora, who had heard the words of the goddess the day before and was converted on the spot. Wynn would find that she was not alone in the dream of building a better Sembia. Nor would she be alone in the new temple of her goddess. In two years time, Sembia became a theocratic democracy, with Ranma as its patron.

**************

Candlekeep

There is something about Truth. It is eternal. It is the foundation of the Multi-verse. It does not change, in spite of encompassing a multitude of perspectives. It simply is. One can look at a color, say the color is crimson, and see its varying shades. But at its base, it will always remain red.

It is said, by many scholars and philosophers, that all truth leads back unto itself. It supports itself and defines the fabric of reality. Truth is and it cannot be undone. When faced with an ugly Truth, many people can attempt to escape its clutches, but in the end they will always be forced to acknowledge it. For Keiichi Morisato, there was only one Truth that concerned him.

He loved Belldandy.

It was by virtue of their love, he knew, that all the obstacles in his path, everything that rose up to prevent him from expressing his love to the goddess, would be overcome. The quest set for him by her Father was a small, if frustrating, test to prove his worth. It was this faith that fueled his search through the archives of Candlekeep and amongst its patrons and staff alike for that elusive answer. He'd come to one very startling realization as he had helped the denizens here and there during the day; if he wanted to be a god and stand at Belldandy's side, he needed to start thinking like one.

By virtue of their very nature, the gods were aware of their universe on a very different level than those that worshipped them. Keiichi was coming to understand that idea all too well. He could certainly sense the needs of others, and he had an understanding on how to solve those problems, but knowing something and doing something were two very different things. He needed to expand on this new awareness. Knowing that something exists, even if you can't see it, and then going on to conduct tests to prove that existence, has been the back bone of science for ages. Faith and hope were the foundation of science, since the birth of scientific thought – regardless of how far the scientific community tried to deny it now-a-days. Ty was right; he'd been looking at this problem from a mortal stand-point. Gods don't think or perceive the world as mortals do. So how does one start thinking like a god?

The thought seemed terribly absurd to the young man, but it was the only real lead he had to follow. So, what did gods think about? Belldandy seemed to enjoy doing things for others, so he supposed the majority of her thoughts centered on selflessness. That was appealing to him. The people he'd helped seemed genuinely happy, and being a contributing factor to that happiness lifted his heart. But not all gods were altruistic in that way. Gond had showed him that. That begged the question: how do gods view the world around them? He didn't have a lot of clues, beyond the attitudes displayed by the Norns and Peorth, as well as his brief interactions with Ty Binder and Oghma.

The one thing all of them seemed to have in common, with the exception of Belldandy, was a rather annoying know-it-all attitude. There had to be some truth to that, judging by what he'd been experiencing lately. They had to see things that mere mortal men could not, implying more acute senses.

Keiichi closed his eyes and tired to expand his awareness, cataloguing the differences in his hearing, touch, taste, and smell. They were all startling acute and in some cases hyper-aware. Drifting in this meditative state, he stumbled upon something different. It wasn't a taste, or a smell. It had no tactile form, nor did it make sound. It was simply there, like a ribbon of potential waiting to be used. It took him quite some time to understand that what he was sensing was an energy source. It resonated throughout him, calling to him in a manner that was difficult to categorize. Still, his curiosity was piqued, and investigating it seemed the natural thing to do.

The ribbon of energy led to the very non-descript door of a broom closet. Keiichi fingered the screw thoughtfully as he studied the energy around the doorway, trying to nail down its purpose. He knew he must have looked very strange, standing in front of a broom closet and staring at its door, but the puzzle of it all had him hooked. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the portal. Brooms and mops stared back at him defiantly. Frowning he closed the door again and scratched his cheek. The energy wasn't surrounding the interior of the closet, just the door frame itself. Keiichi looked up and down the hallway self consciously, before opening the door and stepping into the closet. He wasn't entirely surprised to find himself standing in a new, and very odd place. A place filled to the brim with technology far in advance of anything he'd ever seen or dealt with before.

"Well, this is new."

The child-like feminine voice startled him enough to cry out.

"I thought for certain that I'd keyed the portal so that it would be impossible for someone to enter from the other side."

The young girl standing before him couldn't have been more than eleven or twelve. Her spiky red hair was wild and untamed, and frighteningly familiar. The only problem: she was a fictional character. That of course led to another problem; how was a fictional character standing in front of him breathing the same air he was! While his mind was working through the problem, his mouth decided to voice its opinion on the situation.

"YOU'RE NOT REAL!"

The red headed girl snorted and shook her head.

"Well, that's a pretty rude thing to say."

Keiichi waved his hands in front of him frantically, muttering apologies while trying to address the problem his mind was still working on.

"I mean to say, you're an anime character."

"Fancy that! You are too!" The girl chirped triumphantly.

"Huh?"

"Multiversal planar theory kid. I'm a manga character in your world, and you're one in my world." She snapped her fingers and a small book appeared in her hand. Holding up the volume of Ah! Megami-sama for Keiichi to see made the young man twitch uncontrollably. "So, what brings you to my little corner of reality?"

"Uhm. It's hard to explain."

"Try me."

"Well, to be blunt – I'm on a quest to become a god, so that I can marry Belldandy."

Washu stared at him for a very long time before clapping him on the back.

"Well, it's about time! I was wondering if you were ever going to grow a pair and make it happen." She looked him up and down and frowned, pulling out some crab-like remote and pointing it at Keiichi. "Well, it certainly looks like you're making progress! You've jumped all the way from a three dimensional being to somewhere between a sixth and seventh! Not bad progress all in all."

"Yeah, but I've got to meet Bell's father in a little less than two weeks and I've no idea how to get to the meeting place."

"I'm guessing it's some sort of clubhouse that's completely out of phase with the rest of your reality."

"I'm assuming so." Keiichi shrugged. "Everything I've read about Cynnosure says that it isn't the home of any one god; just some sort of neutral ground."

Washu nodded and smiled.

"So, you're on the big quest, eh? Going to have a chat with the Big Man Himself?"

"Yeah." Keiichi sighed.

"Are you scared?"

"Terrified."

"Well, like I said kid. You're on the right track; especially if you were able to find and use my door from Candlekeep."

"I don't even know what I did really. I just followed an odd feeling."

"Yup. Dimensional awareness. Not bad for your first try."

"Dimensional awareness?"

Washu's clothes changed to become a professor's uniform while Keiichi suddenly found himself seated in a desk complete with note pad and paper.

"Tell me the dimensions that you are currently aware of."

"Uh, linear, planar, spatial and temporal."

"Any more?"

"Sorry. That's all I know."

"Well, there certainly are others, it's just that most people refuse to acknowledge them as such. See, most mortal species may look like three dimensional figures, but their thinking is purely two dimensional. That's not to say they don't dip into the higher dimensions from time to time, but for the most part they are content only accessing a limited amount of their awareness."

She motioned negligently with a hand, and a rather dull looking hologram of a salaryman appeared between them.

"They might use linear thinking along side temporal thinking – the result: excessive amounts of impatience. Other's might use linear and planar – these guys tend to be extremely anal and end up becoming obsessive about the weirdest things."

The salaryman hologram shifted slightly and became a salaryman dressed like a cowboy, and started singing bad country western karaoke. Keiichi winced and shifted uncomfortably.

"You mentioned accessing other dimensions. How is that accomplished?"

Washu smiled and tapped the hologram again. The salaryman disappeared and was replaced by a three dimensional display of what could only be the known universe. The model was made up of innumerable flat planes, almost like the individual floors of a skyscraper. Keiichi noted that small labels popped up here and there denoting realities he'd read about as fictional places, or planes of existence that he'd just recently studied about, but each was situated all along a micro-thin flat plane. Keiichi had the impression of looking at an infinitely layered cake, with each layer being its own reality. It was humbling. Other labels floated denoting more names, and while several caught his eye only two stood out – Earth and Abeir-Toril. Both were separated by a vast number of layers and seemed all but impossible to bridge together.

"As you can see, there are an infinite amount of dimensions out there, and the broader our knowledge becomes, the broader our perspective becomes too. We understand the concept of a line. We recognize the idea of a plane. We ourselves, in this crude form, are spatial creatures. And we acknowledge that we move through time, or that time moves around us. The broader our perspective becomes the more planes we can touch. The sad thing is…most people are afraid to take the next step by asking: what else is there to perceive? Sight, smell, taste, sound, spirit, color, pain, peace…there are so many places to start, and once you do…? That is when things really start to get interesting! You mentioned that you felt something different in the library that led you to my door. What was it?"

"I don't really know how to describe it yet." Keiichi struggled to visualize a metaphor that could describe what he had felt, but nothing adequate came to mind.

"Don't worry about it. Some things don't need words, and sometimes they don't need to be shared either. Just keep plugging through and you'll eventually find what you need." She patted his arm affectionately. "And as for Big Daddy, just be yourself, answer honestly, and know going in that no matter how hard you try – you'll never be good enough for his baby girl."

"Thanks for the advice." He frowned. "I think."

"No worries! I don't charge much for my time. Just an equal exchange of information!"

"I'm not sure I know anything that you would care about."

"Oh, poo! I'm not after anything so mundane as facts or personal experience!"

"You're not?"

"No! Of course not!" Washu shook her head. "I copy the Candlekeep library at least once a month, so whatever you've read I probably already have access to anyway. No, I'm looking for something to further my own research!"

Keiichi knew dread. He'd read the manga and seen the anime. He knew what was coming, but like anyone caught before such inevitability, he had to know the details – he had to ask. He would probably forever regret it, but he opened his mouth.

"I can't think of a way I could possibly help you. I mean, I'm not even that smart! What could I do or say that is going to further your research?"

"It's not what you can do, Keiichi-dono." Washu's grin turned predatory. "It's what you can give!"

Oh, hell.

"Give?" Traitorous voice! Why couldn't it just shut up? Cables topped with robotic hands shot from…somewhere and restrained him, lifting him completely from the floor and preventing any form of escape.

"Samples my little guinea pig!" Washu crowed. "SAMPLES! BWAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Keiichi suddenly understood the terror Tenchi felt any time he entered Washu's lab. By the time she was done with him, he was blushing and walking funny. He couldn't say that it was a bad experience, but he did regret opening his mouth rather than running full tilt from the lab. He shivered as he curled into his bed that night, safely back in the walls of Candlekeep. He would never look at a nurse's outfit in quite the same way, nor would he ever be able to stand the sight of a syringe for as long as he lived. He had a new and abiding respect for Tenchi. The man's ability to love Washu unconditionally after undergoing her tender _mercies _was nothing short of incredible.

Still, he hadn't left Washu's lab empty handed. She'd given him a lot to think on, and when his mind rebuilt itself enough from his tort…er, experiences with the red headed genius, he would come to the conclusion that he needed to open his eyes just a little wider in order to perceive where he wanted to go. Recovering from that experience took him four whole days of solitude, and a helluva lot of reading. Yet, it was time well spent, as he'd learned even more about how to accomplish his goals.

He knew from his studies that there were "Celestial Stairways" littered throughout Faerun that led to Cynnosure, and from there out into the rest of the planes. Many had been destroyed during the Time of Troubles, either through the sundering of the Weave or through direct conflict between warring deities. He was glad that many did not mean all.

Their description was fairly straight forward; divinely magical construct, visible to those with a sensitivity to such, shaped in a constantly changing motif of ascendancy. One moment it could be a classical marble staircase, the next a beanstalk, and after that a floating cloud; the perception of the Celestial Stairway changed to fit all concepts and potentialities. It was taking a great deal of meditation and practice, but Keiichi was now able to "see" magic and its variants. Candlekeep was full of little tendrils of the stuff; some coming from spellbooks or enchanted items, and others from the altars of the various temples throughout the castle town. The latter looked like thick cables shooting off into heaven, connecting the divine to the mundane.

He imagined that the Celestial Stairway would look a little like the energy coming off the altars. Now, with that as his starting point, all he had to do was find the potential resting place of a Stairway and he would be home free! A day and a half later, along side Maerdith, Father Ellosin, and Tethtoril, he found himself digging through any tome or discourse he could find on the nature of portals and gateways to the planes. It was here that he stumbled across the journal of one Jhesiyra Kestellharp, a Magister and one time apprentice of Halaster the Mad.

She, having been one of the earliest authorities on portal creation and planar travel, just happened to describe something that sounded very much like a Celestial Stairway that was uncovered by Halaster, deep in what was now called Mount Waterdeep, in the early days of her apprenticeship to the wizard. He'd ended up building his tower, Halaster's Hold over its location, she assumed to protect the prize or to ensure that he was the only one with access to it. By the time she'd left, Halaster had gone off the deep end and built a series of protections around the thing that went beyond paranoia. He skimmed over the journal lightly, until he found a description of where the foot of the Stairway lay.

"At the heart…" He smiled and nodded. Waterdeep was only six hundred miles away by ship from Candlekeep, less if they were to leave immediately from Baldur's Gate. He could be there in two days, three tops. That would give him a week and six days to find the Stairway and make his way to Cynnosure. He grinned triumphantly and stood, drawing the attention of the other in the room.

"I know where to go!"

"Really?" Maerdith asked eagerly. "Where?"

"The heart of the seventeenth sublevel of some place called Undermountain!" He laughed and danced through the stacks of books, scooping Maerdith in a giddy hug that left her stunned face blushing. "The hard part's done! We're almost there!"

None of his friends had the courage to destroy his joyful celebration. It would be early the next morning when Tethtoril would finally pull him aside and burst his happy little bubble. It would be late that night when Keiichi would hook Kazuki-chan back up to the RV, and leave Candlekeep for Baldur's Gate laden with a copy of every scrap of information the library fortress had on Halaster's labyrinthine meat grinder. Father Ellosin and a number of his previous passengers would stay behind, while other guests of the Great Library would buy passage back to the port city. Some wanted the experience of riding in Keiichi's marvel, while others were hoping for a speedy trip back to the cosmopolitan life of the city.

Faithful Maerdith and loyal Ruthart could care less about these tagalongs; they spent the entire trip back to Baldur's Gate sharing worried looks at the stony visage of their dear friend. Gone was his joy, and in its place there was only stony resolve. Come what may, he would succeed. They knew this. But the idea of accompanying him down into the depths of Mount Waterdeep's Underdark didn't make them feel any better. There was a sense of foreboding hanging over them all, like a dark miasma. Keiichi neither noticed nor cared. His full focus now was on finding the Stairway and keeping his appointment with Belldandy's father.

"Give me your worst, Halaster. I'm not backing down until I reach Cynnosure."

**************

Silverymoon

Serenity found Susan to be quite different than anyone she had every known, or met for that matter. The woman reminded Serenity of a darker, more cynical version of Mary Poppins. She was a Mary Poppins with teeth, a crowbar, a sword, and little to no patience for stupid people. Since she classified approximately nine tenths of everyone living (and most of the dead) in that category, Susan said it was her purpose in life to ensure that Serenity wasn't counted among that majority. And Susan was intent on seeing the task through, even if it killed her. It should be noted here that Susan was referring to Serenity's imminent demise, not her own.

Thus after taking a day to get herself settled, and another to endure the massive feast that the Seven Sisters threw in her honor, Susan woke Serenity at a respectable time (one hour after dawn), and began the _Lessons_. Please note the capital letter and the emphasis, as they are important for continued health and longevity.

Over the course of their first few days together, Serenity was bombarded with what Susan termed: "Things that every young woman needs to know…"

She introduced the core subjects of math, science, literature, how to swim in full-length ball gowns weighted down by screaming hydrophobics (in order to simulate the general level of panic that comes with saving someone stupid enough to fall in the water without knowing how to swim), the subtle importance of living a structured life, the correct way to disembowel just about anything with a blunt object – spoons, hammers, and further down the road…small palm-sized metal spheres, and finally for the first semester: the all encompassing importance and appreciation of chocolate.

The schedule, such as it was, seemed fairly straight forward. Serenity's day began promptly one hour after dawn and finished two hours after dark. The classes were such that the Silver Princess wished Susan had been her teacher from the very beginning of her educational career. Sure some of the topics were strange, but they were at least interesting. Well, all of them except the disemboweling course; that had reminded Serenity too much of her seventh grade biology class. She'd never looked at frogs the same after the dissection; she still had nightmares about poor Mr. Keropi lying in a tray with his guts showing. Beyond that though, Susan was an amazing teacher.

Serenity, after an hour under Susan's care, had more desire to learn than at any other time in her life. She was actually hungry for something other than sweets! The insatiable need to know more pressed her to dig a little deeper and spend a little more time in the palace library. She didn't complain about the number of essays assigned, nor did she whine (not even once) about the mountain of books she'd been given to read. General Hugo Pilter's "Little General's Guide to War and Conflict" and Alastair Murphy's "Primer on Practical Mayhem" had not only been educational, they were filled with all of these neat activities that built on the principles in the books. Sure, she may have inadvertently started a prank war between a number of the stuffy guild leadership, and it was certainly an accident that Dove was now hunting a group of Zhentarim agents Serenity had tricked into her bath; the point was: for the first time in her life, she finally understood why Ami-chan was the way she was. She found herself thoroughly enjoying the homework for these assignments – mostly because Miss Susan thoughtfully made her apply Pilter's and Murphy's principles to every aspect of her life, from shopping for clothes to dealing with her new sisters.

It was eye opening to say the least.

But, of all the lessons, for all their power and practicality, none had impacted Serenity's life more than today's class. Susan had introduced her student to a Truth; with emphasis on the capital "T". It had nothing to do with Algebra or history. Serenity supposed that it could be loosely tied to the sciences, but she felt it lent itself more towards philosophy than any other subject. The lesson had gone thus:

"You have two Eyes."

The statement was delivered in a tone of voice that Serenity had learned to acknowledge as the: "You'd better take note of this, because if you don't, not only will you regret it, but you may even become a grand prize winner of a Darwin Award for being silly enough to believe what I'm about to say isn't important." So, beyond the fact that Miss Susan's statement was blatantly and stupidly obvious, what she said next clarified everything in Serenity's mind.

"You have a Lazy Eye, and a Business Eye. The Lazy Eye sees the surface of things and makes connections that require the least amount of thought and effort. This is how the idea of Normality came about." She paused and sipped her tea. "The Business Eye is the Working Eye. It sees through the trappings of the surface, down to the Reality buried beneath."

Serenity blinked and wondered for a moment which eye was which, before turning her attention back to Miss Susan. The woman seemed to pick up on the unspoken question and sighed deeply, folding her hands in her lap in a precise demonstration of honed patience and supreme control.

"It is a matter of Perspective, Serenity. A decision if you will. We choose to look at things in one way or another; though there are times when Reality demands that we acknowledge it for what it is, regardless of how much we try to do otherwise."

"So, how do we 'see' with the Business Eye?" Serenity asked.

"Simply put?"

Serenity nodded.

"It is a state of mind. As children, we see things primarily as they Are. Yet, as we grow older, we tend to substitute that vision with the one that most closely matches our desires. We no longer see things as they Are, we see them how we wish they _were_. If we prepare our minds to _See_ and _Accept_ the universe as it is, warts, inconvenient truths, and all, then we open our Business Eyes. We learn how to perceive the universe based on its version of logic, rather than our own. Do you understand?"

"I think so. Using the Business Eye, I can expect to see things that I won't really like. Right?"

"Assuredly. But that is only a minor part of the equation. Our personal preferences really don't matter to the Universe, so they really don't fit into the picture at all." Susan presented Serenity with a pastry. "The Business Eye sees beyond the surface. This is a lemon tart. It is more than its component parts; it is more than a confection made for our pleasure or to satisfy our hunger. It has its own purpose and place in the grander scales of reality. When you can _See_ it for what it truly _Is_, only then will you have opened your Business Eye. The Business Eye understands place, purpose, and philosophy. It embraces the ugly truth about this little tart and helps us understand it. So, open your Business Eye and tell me what you _See_ when looking at this pastry."

Serenity spent the next two hours _Looking_ at the lemon tart. Miss Susan, in the mean while, pulled out a book to pass the time. When the mantle clock finally chimed the culmination of the second hour, it was as if a veil had been lifted from Serenity' eyes; she could _See_ the pastry for what it truly was.

She could only stare at the little demonic dessert and shiver. And what was worse, the tooth decaying foot soldier of cholesterol stared back at her. The golden brown, doughy minion of the Overlord of Obesity seemed to sneer back at her menacingly, tempting and taunting her with its sinful sugary glaze and its tart lemony filling. Her eyes opened wide as the other offerings from the platter of treats shed the shroud of innocence, revealing their true and sinister nature.

"HOLY CRAP!"

Serenity scrambled over the back of her chair, preparing a spell that would obliterate the devilish evil before her as she went. The only thing halting her orgy of destruction, was Susan's calm and collected poise as she carefully picked up the lemon tart and promptly bit its face off.

"And now your Eyes are opened." Susan continued to primly devour the treat, uncaring of the little writhing screams it made, until it was no more.

"How could you…it was alive…and you like ate its face!" Serenity's face was pale and the need to vomit pressed her. "Oh! Oh man, I want to puke."

Susan set her book aside and carefully wiped her fingers on a napkin.

"What was the purpose of the tart?"

"The little demon was supposed to rot your teeth, clog your arteries, and bloat your thighs!"

"Those were the effects. What was it meant for?"

Serenity thought for a moment.

"To be eaten?"

"Was that a statement or a question?"

"Statement?" Serenity declared hopefully.

Susan sighed and nodded.

"Correct. The tart was meant to be eaten. Yes, the little blighter is evil. Yes it will attempt to sabotage my waistline. But, in the end, the ulterior effects of its purpose will only affect me if I choose to allow them to. Do you understand?"

Serenity nodded earning a small smile from her tutor. High praise indeed from Susan.

"You must come to accept that the universe is a messy, chaotic place, Serenity. When we acknowledge that, as well as our own pace in it, we can understand the true beauty and majesty of things."

"Really?"

"No, but it is more optimistic that saying: 'This is just the way things are.'"

"Oh."

"Now then, for your homework; I would like a two thousand word essay on the Truth about your bedroom. It will be due in three days time, so we will forego this afternoon's lessons in favor of giving you an opportunity to get started. You will have tomorrow off from regular classes, save for swimming, in order to work on your essay."

Serenity nodded and dutifully wrote down the assignment.

"The day after tomorrow, we will be attending a battle, so be certain to bring your cloak, wear a sturdy pair of shoes, and pack a sack lunch. Our purpose will be to assess the conflict and afterwards discuss the application of Pilter and Murphy's theories against the overall outcome. Questions?"

Serenity's mind was already awash in thoughts and ideas, and she shook her head. Thus she had been dismissed and went on her way. Upon entering her bedroom and opening her Business Eyes, she nearly wept at what she found there. Grumpy wardrobes, perverse leering chairs, and a vampiric bed made her want to scream in terror. It took another two hour discussion with Susan to get her comfortable enough to simply be in the room. Sleeping in the bed would take some time and effort, but within a fortnight, Serenity's mind would come to an acceptable understanding about the vampiric natures of beds versus the cold and uncaring flagstones of bedroom floors. The knots in her back would gladly give up a little of her life, if only to escape the tortures of the tyrannical flagstones.

So, after a mind scaring day and a half, Serenity diligently prepared for her outing. She continued her attempts at seeing things through her Business Eye, if only to inure herself to the shocking reality that lay buried beneath the trappings of bright color and sweet tastes. She found herself cringing at the contents of her wardrobe, and over half the food she'd been served had given her a great deal of worry. Who knew that clothes could be so shallow and vindictive? And spinach! No matter how healthy it was purported to be, it was a down right vile and vulgar vegetable! No wonder no one wanted to eat it! It swore like a sailor!

So it was that Serenity presented herself and her essay to Susan on the appointed morning. Ulin and the others were there as well, intent on keeping their Silver Princess safe from whatever dangers might pop up. As if any would dare to come within a mile of the young woman with Susan Death around. The example Susan had made of the Shadow Thief assassin had pretty much gutted any other attempts…literally.

Serenity was dressed quite differently than she had been a few days ago. She wore a sensible black skirt and a white blouse, along with a pair of sturdy, black, low heeled knee boots. A warm, gray wool cloak was draped over her shoulders in case of chill – one never knew where they were going to end up with Miss Susan, so in accordance with lesson number four: it was better to be prepared than sorry.

She had also packed a light, non-offensive lunch along with a cheerful umbrella and a very fluffy towel. After _Seeing_ the towel for what it truly was, she vowed never to leave home without it ever again. She would have to see about crafting a bag of holding in her next Item Enchanting class, in order to always have her essentials close at hand.

"Are we ready?" Susan asked.

Serenity and the others nodded.

"Very good. Before we leave, I must make you aware of two very important things. The first is rather embarrassing for me really. I have it on good authority that my great-uncle will be in attendance at this battle. Now, I've heard from various sources that you and he have…clashed, in the past. Regardless of ideological differences, I ask that you respect his occupation and be polite. He is a rather nice individual, all things considered; and speaking from personal experience, being the Great Equalizer is a tedious and thankless job. If you can't be friendly, then please at least try and be civil."

Serenity nodded blankly and wondered just who Susan could be talking about. She'd never come into contact with any member of her tutor's family that she knew of, let alone disagreed with them. She looked up at Susan again to see her tapping her chin ponderously. That wasn't a good sign…well, it was more of a "You're about to get a bunch of homework." sign, so it wasn't necessarily a really bad thing. At the very least it would be interesting.

"I should think I would like you to interview my great-uncle for a composition. Yes, that would be a capital idea. Perhaps this will become a series of interviews and compositions with other notable figures? At the very least it should help you considerably when deciding on a career path or looking for serious employment. Understanding the work that goes into making life manageable is never a bad thing."

So it was that Serenity received a secondary assignment for the day, to set up an interview with Susan's great-uncle at the end of the battle. With the mystery of just who this great-uncle Kel was still hanging over her, Serenity decided to ask the next inevitable question.

"What was the second thing?"

Susan frowned in a pretty, if pouting way that pinched her nose cutely.

"Should you come across a small skeletal rat wearing a black robe and carrying a small scythe, or a large black and moody raven – you are to ignore them completely. They are harbingers of headaches and, as a rule, both have atrocious manners."

Serenity and the others nodded, pausing to wonder at the novelty of Susan's instructions. Unlike her escort however, Serenity took the instructions seriously. She had to wonder; what did that say about her life, when such advice seemed not only sensible, but common and welcome as well? As the world blurred around them, Serenity pondered the myriad changes that she was undergoing. If her old self chanced upon her present self she was certain not to recognize the woman she had become. That inevitably led her to wonder who she would become in the future. Would she be recognizable? Would anything within her now, still be there then?

Only Time would tell.

She wondered if perhaps there wasn't a way to wheedle some inside information out of Susan's boyfriend on his next visit to Silverymoon. It shouldn't be too terribly difficult. For the son of the Anthropomorphic personification of Time, Lobsang was remarkably approachable and down to earth. He was pretty handsome too. She had expected someone much older with a really white beard and a fetish for hourglasses. Susan had immediately disabused that idea, by pointing out that white beards were the trade mark of the Hogfather and that it was her grandfather (not her friendly "acquaintance" Lobsang) with an unnatural fondness for glass and sand.

Serenity made special note of the distinction and the fervor with which Susan defended Lobsang. Susan made note of this too and made her promise not to pry too much. The young student wondered if she could convince Susan to let her interview Lobsang for her career path assignment. That would be one way to get some good gossip on her tutor's love life for the next time Laeral visited.

Thus it proved, no matter how much she changed, some things were destined to remain as they were forever…

**************

The Aunorach

Ranma-kun had to give these bastards credit. They really knew how to cover their tracks.

It had taken him several days of tracking and backtracking, but the elusive spiritual spoor led him to the very edge of the Aunorach. From there it had split into thirty different trails, further pissing him off. So, in order to follow up on each trail, he'd split himself into thirty different "shadows" to address the problem. He quickly split the shadows up and set them tracking a trail, each moving simultaneously and independently of the others in order to maximize efficiency and results.

The amount of coordination and planning in the kidnapping of his people was impressive, which told Ranma that he was dealing with a professionally organized group that didn't leave things to chance. That in turn forced Ranma to really evaluate what his response was going to be. It obviously had to be something suitably big, if only to discourage other morons from trying to pull the same crap.

The thirty different groups of these _Shadovar_ had spirited his people away in every conceivable direction, but he'd run them all down. From the far west coast city of Luskan to the slave bazaars of Calimshan, he'd tracked them and recovered his people. The Shadovar, and the people they sold to, were efficiently dealt with after Ranma had taken the time to question them. Their answers led him to the next group, and the next, and the next. Their penance was pointedly simple – a trip to his Pools. He made them choose their path, and if they could reach Zuieez V'heron without falling into any of Fendrellinor's pools, then he would deem them innocents and return them to their homes intact. It was telling that each and every one of the losers found themselves taking a dip.

Once wet, they found themselves locked in their new forms and blindly teleported to some random place that could deal with them – the Underdark, the middle of volcanoes, twenty thousand feet in the air, or one of the planet's poles. The only stipulation that Ranma put on his teleportation spell, was that the initial landing zone couldn't be populated by sentient life forms. After punishing the bad guys, he created more shadows that would strip their strong holds, mansions, fortresses, or organizations of pretty much everything of value from food to wealth. Any and all slaves were freed and sent back to Providence to heal and recuperate, with the promise that they could leave at any time they desired. And then Ranma would move on to the next group.

Only one faction had been stupid enough to murder one of his people. The fact that Ranma knew Emil Tunnin quite well compounded the problem for the kidnappers. Emil was a brave and noble soul, one that wouldn't hesitate to do the right thing when given the opportunity. He wasn't the sharpest nail in the box, but he had a heart of gold. Everyone loved him dearly. Which was why Ranma was quite put out that the group he'd tracked down, had given his people to the Morueme clan of dragons as gifts to secure safe passage back to the Aunorach. The patriarch of the blue dragons had the audacity to eat Emil before Ranma could arrive as some sort of perverse taste-test.

That had pissed Ranma off. A lot.

Every dragon above the age of juvenile was now some form of fashionable attire – mostly boots, belts, handbags, or skeletal models of their former glory – situated neatly in a dimensional pocket that mimicked Mousse's Hidden Weapons technique. The rest he sat down and told them point blank that he wasn't going to put up with the crap their parents had been teaching them – it was either straighten out and fly right, or he'd come back and finish what he'd started. Arharzel, the young bull he'd been focused on, kept nodding his head in agreement and muttering "Yes, Sir…" to each and every one of Ranma's points. The Morueme clan, once the Scourge of Dragondoom, was now a pack of seven children, and Ranma promised to protect them so long as they kept their noses clean. Arharzel, after a quick glance over what was left of the adults that had brought his family to ruin, knew that he had no real choice and accepted the god's conditions.

Ranma then called Emil's spirit back, asked him if he wanted to be resurrected or move on to the next great adventure. The man considered it, looked at Harmony Kildaer (whom he'd had quite the crush on for the longest time) and asked to be brought back so he could finally ask her to marry him. The act had greatly diminished Ranma's reserves, but he got the job done. Before they left, Ranma raided the Morueme hoards for the choicest pieces and two thirds of the hoard's wealth, before leaving the dragons with one final warning not to screw up.

Now he was tracking the thirtieth group; the group that had Sefaril, Aelin, Ethalliandra, Ked, and a handful of others. It was a long trek; long and slow. The massive desert still held the residual stain of Netherese magic upon it. Ranma could taste it on the air, and the sand literally hummed with it.

The very feel of the tainted Netherese magic sickened him and made it difficult to sort out the scent of his quarry. He desperately wanted to purify it, but doing so would wash the ethereal scent clean. Still, it was slow going in following the trail, which did nothing to improve his mood. Numerous false trails had been laid, and Ranma pressed his new, divine senses to their max attempting to sift through all the sensory information his brain was trying to process. He felt his shadows finish with the other groups, strengthening his senses with every little piece of his soul that returned to him; the memories of each victory giving him confidence and resolution to push forward across the next dune. He cared not for the sun, nor for the sand. They were ignored as easily as the need to sleep or eat. He had one goal in mind, and that was finding the last of his people.

Foes rose against him, and fell just as quickly as they came. He burned through them with black fire and sheer will. Nothing came between him and the rapidly decaying magical signature. The deeper into the desert he went, the fewer and fewer false trails sprang up. When the ethereal scent finally went cold, Ranma had no worries. He knew where they were going. It was fairly obvious now. The city floating above the northern banks of a massive fresh water lake stood out to his senses like a dark beacon. Its very presence on this plane seemed an abomination; a perversion of nature and magic that made him want to vomit.

That was where his people were. That is where Sefaril and the baby were.

"Poor stupid bastards." He growled and cracked his knuckles. He rolled his neck and looked again on the floating city as a cold fury settled in his heart. "Looks like you're about ta learn what the true meanin' of Divine Retribution is."

**************

Waterdeep

Waterdeep was the closest experience to Tokyo that Keiichi had come across in his time in the world of Toril. It was big. It was noisy. And it smelled terrible. They had received a lukewarm welcome at the mouth of Waterdeep Harbor from the Portmaster and the retinue of mermen that had come to examine Salvatore's Strumpet. The odd ship and its strange engine seemed to unnerve the aquatic guardians of the harbor, while the Portmaster seemed intrigued at the speed and strength the ship exuded. In the end, they were granted berth and Keiichi was greeted at the docks by a number of excited inventors. His Handless Seamstress had long become something of a legend in Waterdeep, and stories of the RV and even the Auto-writer had made their way northward through the aid of spellcasters from Candlekeep and Baldur's Gate. It was proof that gossip and rumor traveled at almost the speed of light.

It took the better part of a day to get accommodations, but in no time at all a repeat of Baldur's Gate had occurred. Ruthart purchased a rather large pair of warehouses with the tithes that had been gathered from the "temple" in Baldur's Gate. The profits that the small temple's shops had been turning out were nothing short of miraculous. Keiichi attributed it to the solid leadership and organization that his followers had hammered out to run his first temple.

Some of the older generation, having had experience in the daily running of a church from their days in Lantan, immediately established a hierarchy around the venerable Owan Dunwater and two others. One, a middle aged human woman, by the name of Ghileis Vanbur, was meant to stand as a voice for the present needs, where Owan Dunwater was meant to be a voice for the lessons of past memories. The third voice, turned out to be a young Halfling by the name of Roberc Merrymar, whose purview surrounded the dreams of the future.

With all ages and potential points of view recognized through these honorable three, the church of the Innovator was formally created in Baldur's Gate. And with the pattern set, other sects would soon sprout in Cormyr, Amn, and throughout other cities and townships up and down the Sword Coast and throughout the north.

The younger Innovators, whose numbers had tripled since Keiichi had left for Candlekeep, had all taken up the banner of the Father of Progress. Most of the new acolytes were homeless street urchins, eager to have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. Yet, all of them to a one, after seeing or hearing tale of Keiichi's creations vied for a place in the temple. Led by young Roberc, the fiery sons and daughters of the Innovator swore their oaths to uphold Keiichi's ideals. They took to calling themselves the Sparks, and set out to change the world in the Innovator's name.

Their first act came from hearing the elders complaining about low funds. Roberc, seeing the need and recognizing an opportunity gathered the Sparks and put them to work. They took it upon themselves to make copies of the inventions that Keiichi had made or left plans for. The pace was rapid, since the demands for those products were already backlogged. But their energy seemed inexhaustible, and all too soon the small creations were assembled and then sold to the houses of nobles and merchants for a fair, if moderately expensive, price. The temple soon had more than enough funds for Keiichi and his small party to make the trip to Waterdeep and establish themselves there. They even had more than enough left over to hire skilled tradesmen to make the parts needed for Keiichi's newest addition to the temple. No one understood what an assembly line was, but the Innovator, during his brief stop over before moving on to Waterdeep, had assured them that the Sparks had already touched on the concept. If they but expanded the idea and organized themselves a little better, it would make the work go faster and allow them to make enough of whatever they desired to turn a profit. All they had to do was follow the principles he laid out, and everyone in Baldur's Gate who wanted a Handless Seamstress, or an Auto-writer, or one of a hundred other creations, could have one at an affordable price.

To say that he'd left his followers eager and excited would have been an understatement. Those that left with him were even more excited about setting up in Waterdeep. If Baldur's Gate had taken to them so readily without really knowing anything about Keiichi's inventions, then what would the reaction of the City of Splendors be since the Innovator's touch had already been felt and well received there? The excitement was enough to inspire twenty five souls to board the ship with Keiichi and his small circle.

The weight of their devotion pressed him the entire trip, and had it not been for Ruthart and Maerdith, Keiichi was certain his patience would have snapped. Still, they made it to Waterdeep with no trouble and in record time. The new "temple" (he was never going to get used to that, no matter how long he lived) was purchased and, under the watchful eyes of Ruthart, already "blessed" and under renovation. A small number of the company's Sparks hit the streets and "hired" any willing child from the ages of fifteen and under, promising them a safe place to sleep, a warm blanket, and food for as long as they worked. The choice was a no-brainer for those wanting to escape the hungry hands of the Thieves Guild other more unsavory fates like brothels and Skullport. It was a chaotic army that descended on the warehouses in groups of five and ten. Yet, the moment their eyes fell on Kazuki-chan, they all quieted and listened intently to the instructions given by their stewards. Keiichi made it a point to learn all the names of the fifty three children as he served them dinner.

He would have been shocked to know that each child he touched, hugged, or spoke with, were healed of their infirmities. When asked for his blessing by members of the temple, he would simply shake his head before shaking their hands or patting them on the back. But his touch had its effect. Ideas jarred free of their mental prisons or formed in a flash of inspiration within the minds of these faithful. Some heard the Cry of Need and immediately left to answer it. When they returned, not one of them entered the temple alone.

Others were overcome by a surge of creativity that would spark new ideas and innovations in everything from music to magic. In a fortnight, these ideas would make their way out into the world, altering it just a little more. It wasn't an Industrial Revolution, but it did seem to be a miniature Renaissance.

No, Keiichi didn't notice any of this. He simply acted as he always had. Helping here, sweeping there. Doing what he could to ease that man's burden, while making that lonely little girl laugh and feel at home. He simply was, and that seemed enough. He might not have noticed his impact on these people's lives, but Maerdith did as she recorded every little act of service and kindness. And with each bright smile, each mountainous burden lifted, and each troubled soul soothed, her heart slipped a little further from Oghma and a little closer to him.

Yes, it could be said that the first three days in Waterdeep had been very productive. But it would be the fourth that would mark the pivotal turning point in Keiichi's quest. With only a handful of days left before his appointed meeting, he'd become restless. So he gathered Kazuki-chan and started from the temple the moment he felt that they could do without him. Maerdith and Ruthart had committed not to leave his side, for fear he would challenge Undermountain without them; so they became his shadows, intent on making sure he didn't bite off more than he could chew.

The first time he asked someone about Halaster Blackcloak and Undermountain, Keiichi was pointed in the direction of the Yawning Portal. Out of all the places frequented by Waterdhavians, the infamous inn near the docks was the pinnacle of information on the Undermountain. As well it should be, since it was one of the few places that one could publicly enter or exit the vast dungeon. Its proprietor, Durnan the Wanderer, had once sought his fortune alongside companions in the depths of Halaster's madness. Out of all those powerful worthies, he was the only one to leave the labyrinth alive. If anyone could claim to be an authority on Undermountain, it would be Durnan.

Which was why Keiichi set out immediately to interview the man.

It was wise to prepare as best you could, before pressing head long into the breech. Keiichi had a limited window of time, and he couldn't afford to make costly mistakes this late in the game. He'd read the journals of those that had a hand in making the place. He'd scoured the diaries recovered from those that had tempted fate by seeking Halaster's treasures. Their blood-stained last words were haunting, as they painted their deadly picture of Halaster's masterpiece. He'd read the words of the dead, now it was time to listen to the words of the living.

One thing that he'd learned about Halaster Blackcloak, was that the man was cunning and had a penchant for changing things on a whim. What had been in the dungeon one day had changed the next. And while, he couldn't trust old accounts, Keiichi felt he might be able to anticipate some of Halaster's changes based on the insights of his apprentices. It was a long shot at best. People changed over the years, and Halaster's apprentices had been dead and gone for more than a few.

All of his information was out of date, but he had to hold onto some hope.

He needed to reach the heart of the seventh level in eleven days. He could already see solutions formulating in his mind, and with more current information, Keiichi was certain that he would achieve his goal. That was the last thought he entertained before entering the Yawning Portal and greeted Durnan the Wanderer, secret Lord of Waterdeep.

**************

The City of Shade

The gladiatorial match had been going strong for thirty minutes. The husband and wife team seemed tireless, fighting the fifteen opponents without the benefit of weapons from the very beginning. They would vanquish one foe, pick up their opponent's weapon and dispatch the next. In the unlikely event that they lost the weapon, they proved to their foes that, armed or not, it didn't matter to them. They were magnificent examples of adaptation and resourcefulness. The High Prince of the Shadovar found them fascinating to watch, and with every move he seemed to learn something new.

For the entire three days that the pair had been in the city, the Prince had forced them to battle for their lives and the lives of their fellows; five matches a day – morning, mid-day, afternoon, evening, and night. With each battle, the difficulty had been increased to test their limits – and to the surprise of the dark ruler of the city, they had yet to be defeated. Their first opponents had been mindlessly easy – goblins and orcs of little talent or skill, only vast numbers. But each new battle afterwards was slightly more challenging. More opponents, stronger opponents, shackles that cut them off from the Weave, and chains that bound them together. Yet, no matter how they were handicapped, the duo always managed to pull a victory from the jaws of defeat; the teachings of their god and master grounding them and teaching them more and more with every punch or kick thrown.

Today, the Prince had ordered them to fight three consecutive battles in a row – first against a pair of dragon born, a quartet of Warforged monks the Shadovar had stolen from Eberron, and now fifteen of the military academy's finest and brightest. And still the shadovar found themselves being slaughtered – literally.

"Are they not impressive, Hadrune?"

"Indeed, my Prince. They make a fine pair of slaves." The Prince's Hand nodded. "How long do you anticipate they will be able to keep it up?"

"I have confidence in their tenacity." The Prince smiled. "They will continue to fight for some time to come."

"I concur. But I cannot understand what is driving them. Most of the other fighters we have seen usually falter long before this point. Why have they not attempted escape? They certainly seem capable enough to make the effort."

The Prince simply pointed to the right of their canopied box, in answer. Sefaril sat rigidly on the obsidian throne, the pregnant woman coifed in light grey silk and chains that bound her magic as much as they imprisoned her. Her face was filled with fear and concern for her friends as they continued to fight in the face of terrible odds.

"How oddly weak of them."

"Yes. And I suspect this weakness will provide the masses with much entertainment in the days to come." Telamont Tanthul smiled eagerly. "Double their guard just in case, and for tomorrow's sport, triple their opponents. Choose them from the city's guard."

"It shall be as you command, my Prince."

"Oh, and Hadrune…"

"Yes, my Prince?"

"Our guest will be here soon. Ensure that our welcome for him is ready."

"I live to serve, my Prince."

"Yes. Yes you do."

There was a mighty scream from the battlefield and a torrent of visible power slashed out at shoulder height from the she-elf as she threw her arms wide. Seven of the nine opponents left were decapitated in the blink of an eye. The High Prince smiled wryly, the only evidence of his true feelings of shock and concern. Even bound with anti-magic manacles, the she-elf had managed to perform some form of arcane attack.

Yes, these two would truly entertain him for days to come. And as they did, he would unravel the secrets of their power and skill – even as their god served him to replenish their lost magic.

**************

End Chapter Ten


	13. Chapter 11

Disclaimer:

All characters and settings are used here without permission.

You know this part by heart now, so I'll skip to the new stuff.

All original characters belong to me. Please drop me a line if you want to use them.

**Author's Note:**

Joe is a cameo mention of Mr. Black from Rorschach's Blot's "Make a Wish" (here on ) and the various spin offs of that story. If you haven't read it, I would readily recommend it. This cameo does take into consideration the pseudo sequel: Terminal Justice (you need to be a member of the CaerAzkaban Yahoo group in order to read it, but it's well worth signing up). It is set during the time when Mr. Black is adrift due to the Universal Remote.

Enjoy!

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**Realms  
**

Chapter Eleven

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The City of Shade

He entered the city at dawn, splitting himself four times and sending two copies to scout out the lay of the floating abomination, and one would act as his decoy while he remained cloaked in the Umisen-ken to watch his clone's back. He was walking into a trap. It was fairly plain and really unimaginative. After saving Akane so many times, Ranma had become something of an expert on rescuing damsels in distress.

His connection to his students made it easy for the clones to find his missing family. Well, everyone but Sefaril. She seemed to be cloaked from his sight by a veil of darkness. The problem was that the spells guarding those that his aspects did find were foreign weaves, and therefore would take some time to unravel. It should give his other aspects time to find her. He pressed forward with his clone, allowing the copy to beat on the guards that seemed to pop up at random intervals.

Shar's stink pervaded the city, and he idly noted that there was a minute drain on the Shadow Weave. He left it alone when it became apparent that it was pretty much the only thing keeping the city afloat. In spite of the stain the city represented, Ranma was impressed with the complexity of the spells that he saw. There was a profane beauty about the place, and a part of him was sad that it was no doubt going to get messed up. Excessive, if random, property damage always seemed to happen around him in these situations; regardless of how hard he tried to avoid it. Still, it was no skin off his nose. If these bastards wanted their city to remain standing, they shouldn't have walked off with his people. It was their own damn fault…karma and all that.

The veil hiding Sefaril slipped for an instant; probably due to the morons having to renew whatever spell was hiding her. Then again, it might have been a signal in order to lure him in. Ranma wasn't a betting man, but his gut was telling him that it was the latter over the former. He and his clone picked up on her position easily and knew that the game had just advanced to another round.

_We feint and then bring 'em in close._ Ranma sent to his clones. _Test their technique and then poke holes in the weak spots._

_Why not just get in and out?_ A distant clone asked.

_Shar._ Ranma frowned. _She's hidin' in the shadows somewhere around here. We're going to draw her out and finish this once and for all. Let the slag know not ta mess with us again. I ain't dealin' with another Ryouga or a Kuno if I don' haf'ta._

_We looking at a_ permanent _solution, Boss?_

_We got responsibilities now. Sefaril and the baby, everyone back in Providence…these people ain't playing the Game. They're serious._

_So we're serious…gotcha, Boss._

And so the real Ranma and his clone advanced, while the other two ghosted through the gladiatorial prisons. They silently marked each of the prisoners for extraction, a trigger spell that send everyone back to Providence, and then sat back and waited. Ranma and his partner moved into a large complex silently, and immediately followed a rather important looking man. Ranma knew he was important because he had stooges kissing his butt every third step.

They followed him into the bowels of the building, moving down almost thirty stories before they finally came to a pair of massive portals. The Head Idiot barked out orders, and his men scrambled to open the doors. Ranma looked inside and saw Sefaril chained between two large columns, atop some sort of arcane mosaic.

_There's the cheese._ He growled.

_She looks unharmed._ The clone noted. _Can't get a reading on her from here though. There's too much interference._

Ranma studied the situation for a few more moments while the apparent Big Bad monologued or something equally stupid. He noted some subtle nuances emanating from the Shadow Weave. The drain was more pronounced here, and it stood to reason that this must be the engine room for whatever was keeping the city afloat. The nuances weren't telling him much, but it was enough for his mind to make the connections.

_Ain't interference. It's a cloak technique like the Umisen-ken._

_Yeah. I see it now._ The clone nodded. _The Shadow Weave's breaking around it. It's something powerful too. You thinking what I'm thinking._

_Of course stupid! You're me!_

_You think she's going to gloat?_

_She's a frickin' Cosmic Kodachi! What do you think?_

_Piss off, bastard. I'm just askin' how we want ta handle this._

_Spring the trap. But, only after you confirm that's Sefaril. If it is, tag her and let things play out. If it ain't, then pretend it is. Let 'em think they got us. Ham it up._

_When you going to come in?_

_If it's really Sefaril, then right away._

_And if it ain't?_

_I send the others to find her and then I'll come._

_You ain't going ta let Shar violate me, are ya?_

_What the hell are you talkin' about?_

_You remember that time just after Taro and the Letch blew up the Okuzaki's shop? We got caught in the blast…_

_Stop._ Ranma shuddered. I see where yer goin' with this.

_I ain't getting' stripped by a psycho again, Dude. If it looks like I'm gonna be raped, you sure as hell better save me!_

_Stop whining. I'll save yer butt. Just do yer part._

The clone nodded and waited for the Big Bad to leave. He waited for another fifteen minutes before advancing into the room unimpeded. The real Ranma attuned his senses to the clone, looking through its eyes and doing his best to look for any less than obvious traps. The floor mosaic was rife with magic, but Ranma was having trouble understanding what his senses were telling him about its purpose.

The chains holding Sefaril weren't metal. At least they didn't look like metal. They were carved, and the material was a greenish black color. The runes looked to be suppressing the magic within Sefaril, binding it or blocking it in some fashion. Just looking at the things sent a chill running down his spine.

_Don't snap 'em._ He warned. _Something ain't right about them. Try not ta touch 'em either if ya can avoid it._

_Yeah, Brainiac? And how the hell do you expect me ta release her without touching the damn chains?_

_Don't touch 'em with yer skin, Dip Stick!_ Ranma growled. _Use yer shirt ta hold 'em when you pop the manacles._

Right. Right.

The real Ranma growled silently and shook his head. Dealing with himself was a pain. It was little wonder that Ryouga and Mousse hated him so much. He turned his attention back to the clone and watched as it reached out and gently touched Sefaril's cheek. A miasma of black emotions shot through his mind. A hideously alien presence was nestled at the core of the look-a-like.

_Ain't Sefaril._ He sent to the other clones. _Get yer butts in gear and find her. Let me know when you find her. I'm hanging here with Romeo to watch his back and see how this plays out. Alright, Romeo. Break a leg._

Ranma watched through the eyes of the clone as it whispered comfortingly to the doppelganger. It peeled out of its shirt and popped the imitator free. Once the second hand was out of the manacle, the fake made its move, wrapping the clone's wrist in the odd chains.

Agony shot across the link and a sudden siphoning sensation pulled at the core of his very being. Ranma heard the clone roar in pain and rage. And then there was nothing.

/(0)\\\\\\

"An injustice has been done against the Seldarine." The voice of Angharradh echoed like thunder throughout Arvandor. The skies darkened and all denizens, power and petitioner alike felt the anguish and fury of the Queen of Arvandor wash over them. "The Well is sealed and the Souls adrift in the tide! Shevarash! Attend me!"

The Black Archer before the Triune Goddess and knelt immediately. Corellon entered on the Archer's heel. It had been ages since the Triune Goddess had manifested. Aerdrie Faenya, Hanali Celanil, and Sehanine Moonbow preferred to work separately these days, rather than bind themselves as an individual. It was a pleasure to see his queen again after so long, even if she was dressed for war and looking fit to kill. Her spear, Duskshaft, pulsed hungrily in her hands.

"I am come, Oh Queen." Corellon called from the mouth of the grove. "What causes the Queen of Arvandor to garb for war?"

"The Darkness has bound the Well of Souls shut. The spirits of my children cry out, having none to guide their way."

"When did he accept the mantle in full?"

"Glauenthiel heard the cries of those trapped in the Underdark and freed them from their bonds. Since that moment, he has been a beacon for the souls of all elves across the face of Toril. Now the beacon is silent! I demand retribution, Lord Corellon!"

"As do others, my Queen." Corellon closed his eyes and tapped his chin in thought. It would be a delicate thing, but if he could manage it, Shar's powers would lessen greatly. "Shevarash, guide and protect your Queen in her quest. Take her to the Gates of the Moon, and there seek out Selune. From there travel to Brightwater and collect Sharess, whom the Darkness had once imprisoned. Offer her justice for her cooperation in this endeavor."

"It shall be as you command, my Lord Coronal."

Corellon nodded and kissed his wife in welcome and farewell.

"Safe journey and swift victory, Lady Wife."

"I will return with speed, Lord Husband."

"Only when the Dark Whore is broken before you." He laughed. "Call should you need us."

"I will."

"Shall we have a victory feast waiting?"

"I should be cross if you don't."

The King of Arvandor shuddered as she and the Black Archer disappeared into the ether. He moved to his throne and sat for a long while, pondering the return of his long absent wife. How strange Ranma's power and influence were. He truly was the Catalyst of Change, just as Kihon'i had said. The signs and portents all pointed to something big coming down the trail, and Corellon found himself scrambling to make certain his elves were ready for the upheaval. He hoped his efforts would be enough.

/(0)\\\\\\

Klauthen Vale

Klauth, the Great Red Dragon of the North, shifted uncomfortably in his lair. His minions tended to his now crippled body faithfully, their fear and a multitude of enchantments keeping them loyal to his service. They milled about, rubbing useless healing ointments into his now shattered hindquarters, and the terror that wafted off of them as they realized that the salves and potions were having no effect, was worse than annoying. He'd eaten three humans and an ogre just this morning for their continuous bumbling and whining! He knew he was not long for this world. He didn't need their inane emotions grating on his already stretched nerves.

His once powerful hips hadn't healed well after his confrontation with the degenerate rogue blue (verify). Another dispute, only seven days past, with a thrice damned crusading gold whelp, had left him paralyzed from the hips down. Klauth had come out victorious in both conflicts, and the impressive increase in his hoard was truth that the ancient dragon was still powerful in spite of his injuries.

So why did he feel so very empty inside?

The jewels had lost their luster, and the gold was no longer as soft as it had once been. The priceless magical artifacts were now commonplace and the slaves he'd inherited tasted flat. All of his time was now spent watching and dreaming of his beloved Silver Princess.

His thoughts drifted continually to the sheen of her hair, the lilt of her voice, and the curve of her perfect form. His imagination would run away from him, giving her a more pleasing draconic form. Mythril scales and sapphire eyes sparkled in his mindscape. She was more desirable than any dragon he'd mated with, and her perfection outshone the sun itself. He did not have words to describe the intense longing he felt every time he saw her now. It was beyond obsession.

He hungered for her presence in his life. He yearned to be seen by her, to hear her musical voice echo off the walls of his lair, and smell her perfumed scent…if only just once before he died. It was all he lived for.

He watched her ascension from powerful immortal to the laudable state of demi-goddess, and mighty Klauth fell in love anew. He watched as she learned at the feet of her tutor, and he too gained knowledge and wisdom. It wasn't often that a dragon of his age and stature could claim to learn something new.

Dragons of all makes and pedigrees respected power. The red dragons of Faerun coveted it more than most. For Klauth, there were few dragons that he respected – and only a sparse few that he'd even deem close to being his equal. None truly could compare to his majesty, but there were a few worthies that he admitted were powerful in their own right. Yet even among these, he would never deign gift a female with the singular token of his love. None were truly powerful or worthy enough to receive such an honor.

But his Beloved…she was altogether different. Her power continued to grow daily, and Tiamat be damned, Klauth sent his prayers to her instead of the fickle Dragon Gods. He had faith that one day she would hear his prayers and come to him. He held no delusions that she would forgive him his many trespasses – and they had been many. No. Old Snarl accepted that Hell had a place waiting for him; and if he could but hear her voice speak to him, or feel her soft hands touch him, just once, he would go quietly to his damnation with a content heart.

So he re-activated his scrying spell anew and sought out his Silver Princess. His prayers were fervent and ceaseless, focused solely on begging for her attention to look his way before the shroud of death fell upon him.

It would be a surprise for him and his minions, when some weeks later his prayer _would_ be answered. But, for now, the ancient crimson dragon watched and prayed, while his minions fretted, scurried, and offered up their own prayers to whatever gods would hear them. Some even listened. A few even answered.

/(0)\\\\\\

Elminster had plenty of experience with apprentices. He'd tutored so many over the years that he could honestly say that he'd seen the gambit of what humanity, Elvish, gnomish, and many other races had to offer. Yet, in all that vast experience, nothing prepared him for the voraciousness of Ranma-chan. She was a sponge. No, she was more like that crazy gnomish contraption that sucked up anything and everything in its elephantine nozzle that wasn't securely nailed down to the floor.

In one sense it was magnificent, yet in another it terrified him at how fast she was learning. Most people required experience to understand and temper the knowledge they gained. Ranma-chan simply absorbed the concept and in many cases improved upon it!

The sharing of knowledge had started innocently enough after leaving the capital. El had cast a spell using physical and audible components, and Ranma-chan had asked him why he'd done it that way. Phaele's exasperated sigh had given the impression that this was not the first time Ranma-chan had asked such a question. Elminster dutifully sat Ranma-chan down and began with the basics, describing the innate power in certain spell components, and the focusing power that certain words and gestures allowed. The red-haired goddess' response was to produce the same spell without the components. Her smug grin said it all – her way was much better, and didn't sound half as silly.

El sighed and repeated the gesture without the components, mostly to show that he too could do it the "easy" way. Ranma-chan again questioned him on why he used smelly animal parts, non-sense words, and silly "finger wiggling" when he had a much easier and more reliable method open to him. The Magister then went on to explain that sometimes, when he was too tired to do it one way, the other way is still open to him. Understanding how to do things in many different ways allowed him more flexibility.

The thought intrigued Ranma-chan so much she begged him to teach her. That alone knocked him for a loop. Here was a goddess, asking and begging like a child hyped up on sweets to be taught. He couldn't find it in himself to say no, especially when she dangled some of her own magical insights under his nose. Thus it began, El would teach in the day focusing on wizardry and the more logical, scientific approach to connecting with the Weave. He helped her craft a rudimentary spellbook, cobbled together from his long memory and the generous sharing of insights from one of his older tomes he kept on his person for just this sort of occasion. His duties as Magister required him to spread magic far and wide, and just because Ranma-chan was a goddess of magic didn't mean she understood all of its forms…yet. At the pace she was devouring things, he'd give her a good five years before she surpassed him; and considering the breadth and width of his knowledge, that was certainly saying something.

In the evenings, once they'd stopped their journey for the day, Ranma introduced El to her sphere of magic. It was the most intimate and sensual magical experience he'd ever had, barring that special day when Mystra had claimed him for her own. The kata and the movements flowed, allowing his spirit to connect to the Weave on a new and ever expanding level. She taught him many different forms, beginning with something called Tai Chi, and moving into many others like: Hung Gar and Chu Gar, Shaolin Kung Fu, and Ba Gua. For each "style" Elminster learned, certain forms of magic seemed to come easier or more readily. And the further he progressed in each individual form, the more he gleaned of the nuances of the casting. His understanding of magic expanded into deeper and more majestic levels than he had ever experienced before. Ranma's disciple Phaele explained that it was because he'd joined himself to the "Flow" of its currents and allowed himself to be carried by it rather than trying to force and command the energies.

He was now a true conduit for magic, and in this he could understand why Ranma-chan had scoffed at his crude gestures and smelly entrails. Not even his vulgar attempts at sorcery had allowed him this depth of submersion in the life blood of creation.

But, for all the intimacy of Ranma-chan's methods, El could still see the uses for wizardry and his fumbling attempts at sorcery. It was a foundation…a bridge between the mundane and magnificent. And, as he taught Ranma-chan, he could see how her own art grew in response. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he was impacting the future of magic on such a fundamental scale. Of course Phaele and the other companions seemed to absorb things at an accelerated rate as well, cross training as they were.

Even Koneko-chan was learning and teaching new things, such as speech (she was learning the common tongue and teaching the nuances of feline body language) and societal (both civil and bestial) manners. It made El feel useful again, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. The fact that all of his students were unearthly beauties might have helped just a little bit.

It was during these lessons that Elminster gained a much more personal understanding of this aspect of the Weavebender's character. Primarily, he came to understand what drove her; unity and vengeance against Shar. It was an understandable, albeit human, response to Ranma-chan's situation; but it was one that concerned Elminster greatly. To be honest, there were a number of things that concerned Elminster. The first was probably the most obvious: Shar, in the celestial scheme of things, was a greater power. Ranma was still an infant in all things divine.

Second, Shar had legions of followers all of whom vastly outnumbered Ranma's fledgling flock. And to round out his top three, Shar was no doubt goading Ranma into attacking; no doubt, in the hopes of luring the new god into a trap of her design.

El sighed and shook his head as he ate his breakfast. If Ranma wanted to uphold the long time tradition of vengeance, she needed to practice some serious patience and find out how best to hit Shar where it really hurt the most. Of course he'd told her all of this already, but he wasn't really sure if the neo-goddess took his words to heart. Their discussion afterwards had been rather short, and she hadn't spoken with him since. That was two days ago. After three weeks of travelling together, he still wasn't able to read her mercurial moods all that well.

And yet they continued their quiet exodus from Sembia, taking them further westward, into the eastern reaches of Cormyr. There was no hurry to their pace, and time itself seemed to speed up and slow down at odd intervals as they traveled. There was a vague sense of need in Ranma-chan calling her to the northwest, but there was no true urgency backing the desire. El speculated that it was her other soul fragment calling out to her. He watched her worriedly, and recognized immediately that something was terribly wrong, due to the sudden expression of terror that etched itself across her face. Her acolytes froze up behind her, mirroring her expression.

"Ranma?" He whispered. "What is it?"

"They've bound him!" She growled, clutching at her wrists. "They've bound a piece of him, and…." She trailed off as a look of pure horror overcame her.

That was when he felt it; a small, but rapid, bending suction within the Weave that left him feeling light headed and weak.

Ranma-chan and Koneko-chan screamed in agony, and fell to the ground. And reality unraveled around them. El swore, turning the air blue, and began dragging Phaele, Valor, and the few acolytes as far from the pair as possible. The very fabric of the world warped around the fallen goddesses, and Elminster feared that another Time of Troubles was at hand. Had he been more observant, he would have seen two other beings appear at the edge of his awareness.

Sharess stood beside her companions, the elven god Shevarash, Selune, and Angharrah. The quartet of divinities worked quickly to contain the warping of the fabric of reality around the Weavebender. It was an odd companionship, but she could not help but feel that the fit was right. Even now, standing as she was before the fragmented godling, she knew that the paths she was walking were the correct ones.

Long had she denied herself the pleasure of her revenge against Shar, for her imprisonment; and upon being approached by the elven god of revenge, it was a simple choice to follow him. Shar had wronged her, and he had felt her need calling to him. He offered Sharess the opportunity for sweet, sweet, vengeance. How could she deny herself such an exquisite experience any longer? Now, she looked down upon a kindred spirit; someone who knew and understood the feel of Shar's depredations.

Both of the aspects of Ranma looked up at them pleadingly. Shevarash made no move to aid or comfort the godling while Selune and Angharradh were intent on maintaining the barrier. The goddess of sensual fulfillment snorted and moved forward, through the mystical barrier and gathered the suffering pair into her arms.

"Break away from him for a time, sisters." She whispered. "Break away and ground yourselves once more."

"Can't." The red-haired elven woman hissed. "Can't lose him."

"Lose him?" Sharess laughed. "Child, trust in the bonds you've created. Open your eyes to where he is."

"How?" She demanded.

"Follow the pain back to its source."

Sharess watched as the red-head closed her eyes. It took very little time for the pain to drain from Ranma's face, only to be replaced by white hot fury.

"What do you see?" Shevarash voice was barely more than a harsh whisper.

"Defilers!" Koneko-chan's voice hissed. "They bind him with the bones of another god!"

The elven deity snarled and the air darkened around him, causing the mortals to fall to their faces in fear.

"Can you see where they are?" Selune prodded.

"Yesss." The pair growled.

"Then let us go to them." Sharess lifted the pair and noted that reality abruptly snapped back into its natural order as Ranma's soul fragments had something new to focus on. They were held back by the elven god, who cut his left palm with an obsidian dagger. He stepped before them and painted their brows in his blood, sanctioning them.

"Furies, I name thee." Shevarash intoned, touching Selune. "Unceasing."

"Grudging." Angharradh smiled eagerly.

"Avenging." Sharess felt the power of…something surge through her.

"Justice." Ranma's and Koneko-chan's brows glowed brightly, and from the way that they stood on without her aid, Sharess knew that they had been empowered too.

"Loose thy rage and let the blood of the defiler run cold, that justice might be served and vengeance appeased."

Ranma-chan, face etched with her wrath, reached out her hand and literally ripped a tear in reality. The sounds of screams echoed from the hole. She turned to her mortal followers and gestured to them.

"You are to be witnesses this day." Her ire was frigid and her voice arctic. "Let justice be served upon those that trespass."

Sharess shivered at the power and authority that radiated from the godling. It dwarfed her own by an order of magnitude, and reminded her of her place in the cosmos. Ranma-chan did not look back as she stepped through the tear and into the chaos.

She didn't need to.

It made Sharess wonder, if perhaps the godling might not entertain the notion of a celebration feast once Shar had been dealt with. If the Weavebender was amendable to the idea, perhaps Sharess might also entice the godling to indulge in other…pursuits. She set aside the thoughts as Shar stepped through the makeshift portal behind Ranma's faithful. There would be time enough for celebrations after the pleasure of this battle was done. She looked to Shevarash and received a nod in return. She kissed him brazenly as she danced through the rip in space and time. She was happy to note that she'd left the emo elf-god more than a little bewildered.

She laughed freely and embraced the rage she'd felt over her imprisonment. The time had finally come, and Shar was going to feel the same sense of hopelessness and loss that she had inflicted on Sharess.

/(0)\\\\\\

The battle of Tellum's Plain was a typical conflict in every way. There were beheadings, involuntary amputations, disembowelments, eye gouging, and of course very nasty splinters. Magic even had a grudging role in the battle, but there was very little finesse in the use of it – if Serenity had seen one fireball explode, she'd seen them all. The hair pulling and name calling towards the end seemed rather childish and silly, but the impromptu mud wrestling was…unexpectedly pleasant. Still, Serenity could say with calm assurance that she pretty much hated every minute spent watching the blood, gore, and guts fly. She stomached it though, if only because of her tutor.

Susan had spent the entire battle staring in that detached, uninterested way, as if the whole life and death struggle playing out below her was a mundane, common, everyday occurrence. When Serenity had questioned her on how the woman could stand to watch such wholesale slaughter and violence, Susan simply pointed to her eyes and instructed Serenity to LOOK at the battle anew. Understanding the instruction, Serenity stopped looking at the surface and tried to see underneath it all. Doing so opened a whole new perspective to the Silver Princes. Gone were the piercing arrows and the bloody lances, and in their place were the motives and purposes of those battling.

She saw men seeking glory and fame, where others were defending that which was precious to them; others fought for money, while many were there simply to escape the nagging of their wives and the monotony of milking cows or weeding fields. That had surprised her. She saw plainly one man's less than wholesome motives, and thoroughly cheered when a stray swing of a Morningstar castrated him.

When she LOOKED at the magic being thrown, she was surprised at just how…bored…it was. The energy itself seemed to actually yawn at times due to the aggressive repetition and abuse it was being put to. It was vulgar and it even looked angry at times at the wizards and sorcerers that were tarnishing its magnificence with such vain and mundane uses. She also noted with some surprise that some of the energy seemed to call out to her, asking to be put to better use.

It was midway through the battle that a familiar figure made an appearance. Kelemvor said nothing to her beyond a slight tilt of the head, and a warm smile. Instead he chose to greet Susan with a fond embrace, and spent the rest of the conflict in quiet conference with the white haired woman.

Serenity wasn't certain how to feel about his apparent dismissal, but the words of their last meeting played out in her mind.

"_Death is a natural thing, Daughter of Mysteries. It is the prescribed end of all life, the great inevitability. Why do you fight it so?"_

_She didn't answer right away, trying to sift through and center all of her emotions into a coherent answer._

"_Because it makes people suffer."_

_Kelemvor chuckled._

"_If that is true, then why do you not battle as fiercely against life as well?" Serenity just looked up at Kelemvor blankly. "Life is the definition of suffering, Serenity. Everyday is one more battle in a constant war against suffering. Mortality's struggles are defined by the suffering they overcome. Death is not the end of suffering, but it is a respite from the struggle."_

_She looked at the cooling body of the giant not far off and sighed._

"_I don't understand."_

"_You will, in time." He kissed her forehead._

"_What if I don't want to?" She asked._

"_What you desire is not necessarily what you need. You will understand death's purpose in time." He dried her tears with his thumb. "Until then, go with my blessing and think on my words."_

She hadn't thought overmuch on those words until now. To be charitable, she hadn't exactly had much time to ponder them. For that, she felt extreme guilt. Broan the Giant had died because she had lost her temper. The knowledge of that death had been buried deep and forgotten beneath the avalanche of other pressing experiences; but now that she was facing Kelemvor again, it all came rushing back to her with a vengeance.

Serenity fell to her knees as the pain and unresolved guilt washed over her like a merciless tsunami. Her attendants were at her side immediately, questioning her and comforting her in turn. It wasn't until Susan shooed them away, with Kelemvor standing silently behind her that Serenity managed any semblance of control over herself.

"Are you finished?" Susan's voice was patient and filled with just the requisite amount of concern to fill a thimble. Serenity blinked up at her blankly, only to be hauled back to her feet. "You're making a scene."

This too was delivered with the requisite amount of patience due a child who was embarrassing their parent in the middle of a market.

"I killed someone." Serenity confessed miserably.

"Truly?" If there was a tone to describe the "Welcome to the club, here's your name tag and toaster iron." sentiment, Susan's voice assuredly had it mastered.

"More than just the one, truthfully." Kelemvor added helpfully.

The look Susan threw his way could have killed someone, if they weren't the local anthropomorphic personification of Death already. Kelemvor either missed the look or unwisely chose to ignore it as he continued merrily on, describing Serenity's list of kills.

"The giant's death seems to have traumatized her more than the goblins, or that Goruch fellow."

Serenity looked up, startled at the mention of the other deaths. Memories of the tunnels beneath the Plains of Huigan flooded her mind, reminding her of the creatures she'd blasted in her panic. The experience with that monster Goruch was relived and others besides. All her battles with the senshi and the youma they had defeated…she'd killed them all. She might not have ended all the lives herself, but her decisions had. The very thought made her pitch over onto her knees again and vomit.

The glare Susan shot her great-uncle wasn't escapable this time, and Kelemvor found himself flinching for the first time since he'd ascended.

"I'm deeply sorry, Susan." He winced as her glare became more intense. "I mean to say…I'm sorry that I don't think I am the correct choice for what you had in mind. Your grandfather would be better suited for the role, or perhaps another that I know of."

"On that, Uncle, we can agree." Susan mumbled something about insensitive morons that everyone chose to ignore. She motioned for Ulin to help Serenity in her place. "Let's speak over there."

The pair retired a ways away from Serenity and her handmaidens, leaving the Silver Princess to languish in her guilt and self-pity. Ulin whispered meaningless platitudes in her ear while wiping her mouth and chin. Serenity couldn't find the energy to care. She felt forever soiled and consumed by a taint so deep, she wondered if she could ever hope to be clean again.

The bored magic that had been listlessly meandering around the battlefield sensed her growing need to escape the pain and perked up. She felt its approach, and likened it to a dancing zephyr. It was eager to finally have a purpose worthy of its magnificence. Susan looked up in alarm as the magic answer Serenity's desire.

_Where?_ The concept was clear in her mind.

"Away from the pain." She whispered, yearning for a shoulder to cry on and wishing for nothing more than to be among familiar faces.

"SERENITY NO!"

The call came too late, as the blood of her birthright gave the magic form and purpose. There was no portal, or tear in space and time; nor was there any explosive display of colors. One minute Serenity was there, atop the rise overlooking the battlefield, and the next she simply wasn't.

If her mind had been cognizant of what the magic had done, she would have been truly amazed at what her intent and need had accomplished. In the blink of an eye, she had crossed the myriad of dimensional thresholds and arrived in a place that held absolutely no resemblance to Faerun. The magic gloried in its accomplishment. It had done the impossible and the masterpiece it had wrought was just now being acknowledged by its Mistress. Serenity felt a surge of pride and an eager desire for praise from the arcane energies that had travelled with her across the divide. It was like a puppy that had fetched its first paper.

She shook her head and opened her eyes, turning her attention to her surroundings. At the familiar surroundings she nearly passed out.

"Mugen Gakuen…" She clenched her skirt tightly at the sight of the building where Pharaoh 90 had been sealed away. A feeling of dread welled in her as the being's familiar dark presence pulsed with increasing strength somewhere in the upper levels of the building before her.

"So you're my plot bunny for this dream, eh?" A rich voice spoke quietly from beside her. Serenity spun quickly, a spell on her lips. "I have to admit that you're much better looking than the usual fellow. I wonder if my subconscious is trying to tell me something? Then again, I suppose I'm long over due for this kind of dream…aren't I?"

The man was non-descript in the extreme. Serenity would have been hard pressed to pick him out of a crowd. There was a magical patchwork shroud dancing around him, and she started to pick it apart, LOOKING beneath each layer to uncover another Truth about the being before her. Each layer was stripped away until she came to the essence of the man before her. He was a young man her age with beautiful green eyes, messy black hair, and a…fatigue…about him. Oh, and he just happened to be intimately tied to Death in the most curious fashion. She would have said that it was a reluctant sense of inevitability, but at the same time he embraced it as if it was all the most natural thing in the world.

"I can't say that the ears match the wardrobe though. I wonder what dreaming about a Bunny Girl wearing sensible clothing means?"

Serenity blinked and then touched the top of her head, finding a set of faux rabbit ears protruding from a head band on her head. The magic prancing around her snickered gleefully at the play on her old name and identity. She narrowed her eyes and mentally spanked the eldritch energies.

"It means that you have some sense of self preservation, not to objectify women even in your dreams." Serenity growled.

"That would be the logical thing." The being nodded. "But, according to Kara and Henchgirl, I don't have a sense of self preservation. That being said, I think a change in wardrobe is called for."

A wand materialized in the being's hand and, before Serenity could do or say anything, her sensible clothing became a skimpy white bikini, with miniscule coverage and an uncomfortable thong, complete with fluffy tail in the appropriate place. The ears became real too, much to her added ire. She growled as the being nodded and smiled.

"Much better. Yes, I think from now on you will be the template for all my plot bunnies."

Twin balls of incandescent, eldritch white fire erupted in Serenity's palms causing the man before her to flinch in a very pleasing way. She hissed very menacingly and took a step forward. He took a step back. They repeated the opening steps to the dance twice more before the man took off running.

She made it five steps after him before a wave of ungodly pain tore through her body and soul. Her body locked up and fell to the hard flagstones of Mugen Gakuen's courtyard with a heavy bounce. She screamed until her voice was raw, and clawed at the stone until her fingers bled. Yet the agony persisted. It wasn't until a flash of red light washed over her that she felt some sense of relief. But, even then, the echoes persisted in her dreams; nightmares of her pig-tailed love, chained and suffering at the hands of shadows. The connection between them grew thin and, faint though it was, she sent all of her love shooting to him. The answering sensation of peace and comfort eased her mind as she drifted into unconsciousness.

Mr. Black looked down at the bruised and bloody form of the admittedly sexy bunny girl and sighed. Even in his dreams he couldn't escape weird stuff that put his life in jeopardy. Henchgirl was right; he didn't have any sense of self preservation.

He sighed and healed the girl before restoring her modesty. The ears and tail he left alone though. They just added something special to the overall package. Lifting her over her shoulder, he looked towards the top of the building and sighed at the evil emanations that he could feel pulsing there.

"Alright. 'Call to Adventure'…check. Meet the damsel-slash-future-love-interest-who-strangely-isn't-my-significant-other…check. Awkward happenings to promote sexual tension in the future…check. Meet the bad guy…"

He looked up at the buildings where the press of doom was coming from.

"…sort of. Bugger this. I'm skipping to the beat down so I can get to the good stuff."

The man disappeared with a pop, leaving the courtyard of Mugen Gakuen empty.

/(0)\\\\\\

Waterdeep, Upper Dock Ward  
Rainrun Street

The inn was the most widely-known and easily accessible entrance to Undermountain known to the general public. Most of those that made use of it were either desperate to escape the city or deranged to think themselves prepared to meet Halaster head on. Some were delusional enough to believe that they could part the mad, immortal wizard from his treasures with little to no sacrifice involved. But one thing was commonly shared by all those that dared use the Portal as their access point to the dark pathways beneath the City of Splendors – they were all driven.

The Portal, at first glance, was rambling, dingy, building of smoothly carved pillars. The interior was rich and mirrored the outside accents with more smooth wood columns and dark paneling. Its walls were strewn with a plethora of blue tapestries and the smell of spilt ale and wood dust was heavy in the air. It stood two doors down from The Empty Keg tavern, right next to Mother Salinka's House of Pleasure. This seemed to make an odd sort of sense to Keiichi. Those facing their mortality would no doubt find themselves desiring a stout drink and a night of living before challenging the labyrinth below. He felt inclined to pursue neither, but both businesses seemed to be doing well for themselves. His focus was Durnan, and anyone that had recently returned from the guts of the dungeon.

Upon entering the inn's doors, Keiichi's senses were almost overwhelmed by the layered smells and lingering traces of food, alcohol, and sweat. The tang of smoky fires and tobacco danced through the scents, leaving an odd taste in Keiichi's mouth. The first sight that greeted him upon entering the Tap Room was the inn's namesake; a wide well that acted as the entrance to Undermountain. This yawning portal was surrounded by a low wall and ever burning magical torches were ensconced on the pillars that supported a massive winch and pulley apparatus that presumably lowered the moderate sized wooden platform the one hundred and forty some-odd feet into the dungeon. The platform itself looked relatively sturdy; however, Keiichi calculated that the large silk rope used to do the lowering would barely hold the weight of two people. There would be absolutely no way that the contraption would withstand Kazuki-chan's weight.

That was going to a minor problem to resolve. He just hoped Durnan would be amenable to making a few changes.

"Welcome to the Yawning Portal!" The greeting was energetic and full of warmth. The author of the salutation was a young woman, no older than sixteen or seventeen by the look of her, with pretty dirty blond hair and bright brown eyes. "How can I serve you this day?"

"Thank you for the welcome, Miss…"

"Nhaera."

"Miss Nhaera." Keiichi nodded and smiled. "I'm looking to speak with a man named Durnan. I was told that he is the owner of the inn."

"You heard right, sir. Grandpa's been running the inn for over seventy years now!"

"Seventy years?" Ruthart couldn't keep the awe from his voice.

"Aye. He'll be in the back prepping for the evening's business. Head over to the bar and I'll fetch him for you."

"Thank you, Miss Nhaera."

"Don't thank me, order something from the tap instead!" Her grin was cheeky, and Keiichi couldn't help but be reminded of his sister Megumi.

He led the group over to the bar and followed Nhaera's instructions, ordering themselves a tankard and allowed themselves to be talked into a light lunch as well by the pretty barmaid that was minding the room. It took about twenty minutes for Durnan to finally make his appearance, but when he finally did, Keiichi could honestly say that the man didn't look to be in his nineties as the stories had reported. For a man approaching a hundred years of age, the white-haired Durnan was certainly a powerful presence. His muscles were still chorded and bulged like cannon balls as he wiped his hands with a grey rag that disappeared into the pocket of his equally grey apron. Keiichi looked between the man and the massive greatsword that hung among the racks of mugs and bottles. It was no wonder that few made trouble in the inn, and Keiichi knew that those who were dim enough to push their luck with the man would very likely live to regret it.

"Nhaera said there were people lookin' ta speak wi' me. Would ye be them?"

Keiichi stood and held out his hand in greeting.

"Yes, Mister Durnan. I am Keiichi Morisato, and these are my companions Sister Maerdith of Ohgma and Ruthart Gambool."

Durnan accepted the offered hand and raised an eyebrow at the strength he found there. Maerdith and Ruthart mimicked Keiichi's lead and the quartet settled onto the stools.

"How can I be of service then?"

"Plainly put? I seek information on surviving Undermountain."

"A simple task, Lad. Don't set foot in the place."

"Would that I had another choice, Mister Durnan. Unfortunately, I've been set a quest, and the only way to reach the place I need to be in a few very short days, lies at the very heart of Halaster's playground. Thus the need for help in navigating its challenges."

"The gods must hate ye then lad. Either that or thou art a fool and then some for even entertaining the idea of delving the Undermountain."

"I've been called worse." Keiichi smiled.

"If I might be so bold to ask, what drives this quest o'yer's? It obviously isn't wealth. Ye don't feel the type ta care over much for gold and riches. Tis it fame then, the glory of walking into the ever-changing hell and coming out alive? Or perhaps a demonstration of your bravery?"

"None of those." Keiichi looked into the half full tankard and sighed. When he didn't immediately continue, Ruthart took up the tale.

"Lord Keiichi is to meet the father of his beloved. The only way to reach the place of the meeting is through a portal in Undermountain."

"Love drives ye?" Durnan snorted. The mockery earned him a stinging snap from a wet bar rag from the woman behind the counter and a scowl from the other women throughout the room. The inn keeper rubbed the already bruising welt and shook his head. "As I said, Lad. The gods must hate ye."

"No, Master Durnan. A goddess loves him." Maerdith whispered wistfully. "And it is because of that love that Lord Keiichi looks to move heaven and earth to be by her side."

"No woman is worth Undermountain, Boy. Step away from yer heart and look at the dangers that are about to swallow you."

Keiichi refused to look up from his tankard. Maerdith reached out and gripped his forearm affectionately.

"Were she a woman, Master Durnan, I would agree. But I have stood before the Norn of the Present, and I say this to you frankly – she is a goddess as certainly as Ohgma, Deneir, or Selune."

"So this be some sort of religious quest then? Proof of yer faith?"

"Not so much, Master Durnan." Keiichi whispered. "I seek her hand in marriage. To earn that blessing, I need to present myself to her Father in the timeframe that He has set me. The only path I can find, begins at the end of Halaster's labyrinth. To that end, I will set myself against the madman in order to meet the demands set before me. Nothing will stand in my way."

Durnan and the rest of the people in the Tap Room, staff and patron alike, could only stare at Keiichi in silence after his declaration. It took some time for the room to regain their senses.

"I know you think me insane, Master Durnan." Keiichi sighed. "That is fine, as it has no true bearing on my quest. What I came here looking for, is simply information. If you require compensation for your time and knowledge, then I will willingly offer a fair price to repay you."

Durnan waved off the boy's offer, under duress and the weighted stares of every teary-eyed female in the room.

"Spend some money on meals here for the next two nights and I'll tell ye what I know, Lad." This earned a collective growl from the women scattered throughout the room, but Durnan was Durnan. If he was going to spend his time educating the boy, the least he could do was give the inn a little income. He shrugged. "I shouldn't think it would help overmuch since Halaster bores easily and changes things around. But, mayhap I'll be able to give ye enough insight into the experiences of meself and others to get ye out alive."

"Thank you."

"None needed. Now then, the first thing ye will find yourself needing is a Company."

"A company?"

"An adventuring company, Lad." Durnan sighed and motioned for the woman behind the counter to fill a tankard for him. "The more bodies between you and Halaster, the more likely you are to get what yer after."

"I can't in good conscience ask anyone else to risk themselves."

"That'd be yer choice, Lad. But know that there are dangers down there in the dark that ye will face that need the deft touch of a professional; traps and locks, mystic barriers that require magical keys, undead that can only be driven away or faced by servants of the divine. If ye go it alone, then ye will last a few hours at best."

"What would you suggest?" Keiichi sighed, producing a notebook and began jotting notes.

"Well, a company generally has between five and twelve members. It depends entirely on the money pouch funding the expedition. Food and equipment are expensive when outfitting, but the salary and the cut of the spoils generally cost more. Challenging Undermountain will break you even before ye set foot below, if yer not mindful."

He took a long pull from his tankard and frowned.

"As for the party itself…a Trap Runner is paramount. A pair of them would be best, if only to have a back up once the first gets overconfident. Halaster is a cunning bastard, and shows it without even having to cast a spell. I've a few contacts that I can put ye in touch with; whether they accept the call or not is their business. Second, a pair of dedicated healers at the very least, and enough equipment to heal a small town wouldn't be amiss. Yer going to run into injuries the like ye've never dreamed of; illnesses that rot the flesh, poisons from beast and trap alike that will kill in seconds, and battle wounds that will bleed a man out if not tended right away."

Keiichi nodded and scribbled away. Ruthart and Maerdith were rapidly writing out their own lists.

"Two or three swordsmen and shields men are going to be a good investment. Halaster likes his monsters, and so having a couple monster hunters on staff will be a good thing. I would recommend dwarves if ye can convince the little blighters. They've a good nose for the dangers o' bein' underground, and they've a knack for ferretin' out secret ways in the cut of the stones. Elves tend ta get claustrophobic real quick, but are a good second choice if ye can't have a dwarf."

"Last, ye need a Spell Slinger or four. The more knowledgeable the better, but don't put too much faith in them outthinking Halaster. The only man I ever met that could match him was Elminster of Shadowdale, and getting the Old Mage into Undermountain is about as likely as pulling the stars from the skies. That said, let me repeat: ye need a wizard or at the very least a student of the arcane. Halaster has layered his playground with so many magic traps and enslaved creatures that can only be harmed by arcane spells. Ye'll need someone that can deal with those challenges and potentially be able to get ye clear of the dangers that ye can't face. I'll explain more about that later. With me so far?"

Keiichi nodded and continued to take notes.

"Now then, once ye've hired the skilled hands, yer going to need to get yerself an official charter from the city. Shouldn't be too hard. I'll go over the places ye need to go in a moment."

"Why a charter?" Keiichi asked.

"A number of reasons, the most important being identification. Halaster likes his portals, so people tend ta enter Undermountain here, and end up in any number of other places. A charter gives a company more than a bit of credibility when dealing with the governments of other cities. Think of it as a sponsorship from Waterdeep herself. If you're official, then it makes a number of headaches disappear."

Keiichi nodded.

"Also, the charter acts as an official contract between the members o' the company. Rights, privileges, cuts of the collective pie taken in…the charter lines it all out, along with burial instructions, next of kin, and any other business that needs dealing with. If ye take the time to fill out the paperwork, other governments acknowledge that yer serious enough not ta cause too many problems for them."

"Makes sense." Keiichi nodded.

"Now then, let's talk equipment…"

The pair became a fixture of the bar for the next two days; Durnan sharing his wisdom and Keiichi dutifully noting it down. News of the Innovator's quest spread like wildfire throughout the city within hours of Keiichi arriving at the Portal, and soon there were others sharing their advice as well. Durnan helped Keiichi make sense of it all, and even helped him negotiate with those that came looking to join him in his descent into the dungeon. The company formed fairly quickly, and Ruthart was given the task of outfitting them while Maerdith helped Keiichi interview the candidates. By midmorning of the third day, nine souls had signed up and the party was ready and waiting in rooms taken out at the Portal.

Keiichi however chose to spend the rest of the day at the temple gathering the supplies he would need and crafting a few things he felt pushed to make. Plans were made for Kazuki-chan with Durnan, in the form of a chain and a series of secondary winches that would be erected and taken down by the temple staff. Durnan and the Portal were exempted from any and all charges for goods and services provided by the Innovator's faithful. Keiichi had become good friends with Durnan, and friends weren't cared for, not fleeced.

By the time he finally made it to the Yawning Portal, the streets were filled with onlookers and people waiting to see the young fool who wanted to marry a goddess. Jeers and taunts were thrown at him, but Keiichi ignored them all in favor of fiddling with the computerized cartographer he'd rigged. If nothing else, they wouldn't get too lost…unless of course Halaster decided to change things behind them as they went. Even then, Keiichi should have a live feed of any changes made. That alone was going to increase their chances of survival by quite a bit. He stood by as Kazuki-chan was fitted with his chain looking over the nine male and females of varied races that had signed on to accompany him into the depths.

Jaster of Shaundakul, the elected leader of the party after Keiichi, stood nearby checking equipment and ensuring that everything was moving smoothly. The priest of the Helping Hand was broad shouldered and had an easy smile. Beside him Tamlith Ghuir, the Blue Witch, cast an enchantment over a number of stones. She was Jaster's second, and one of the few people who had run the Undermountain and survived. Her reasons for delving the dungeon were pointed. She'd lost her lover and sister to the labyrinth, and she hoped to either beat the dungeon or die trying.

A pair of dwarven twins and their lovers rounded out the trap runners and the shields. Galen, Piffen, Dole, and Fiona were intimidating and gruff. Yet, when confronted with his quest, they felt drawn to seeing him through. Uster Sulla, another student of magic came next. A half-elf, Uster, was an acolyte of the Weavebender, a relatively new religion that espoused a melding of combat and magic. He named himself a Weave Dancer, and seemed very proficient when he faced off against one of Durnan's associates. Tamlith seemed both intrigued and affronted by the young man, but they kept their interactions professional. Isma of Sune and Derrick Brandle of Torm rounded out the party. Both the clerics arrived together, insisting that they be included in the party. When asked why, they simply said they were needed. The burning in Keiichi's heart told him that they were right. He didn't question their motives further.

"I should be going with you." Maerdith whispered crossly as she double checked his pack and his chain mail jerkin.

"No. You are needed here."

"Why?"

"I don't know yet. But that's what my instincts are telling me."

"I'm supposed to be your chronicler, Keiichi Morisato." Keiichi pressed his fingertips to her mouth, stopping her from continuing.

"I met a friend of yours before we left Candlekeep. He told me that I was blind not to see what was right in front of my face." Keiichi smiled and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She leaned into his touch. "I cannot love you like you love me, Maerdith. My heart belongs now and forever to Belldandy. But that doesn't mean that I do not love you. This path I walk is not for you. I will not be returning from the depths of Undermountain."

She started to protest.

"I will come by another way, when my interview is done." He pressed his forehead against hers and looked her in the eye. "My question to you Maerdith, is will you be here waiting for my return?"

Tears began streaming down her cheeks and she grabbed his face and kissed him passionately. He did not return the gesture, but when she pulled away he kissed her right above the eyes.

"Yes. I'll be waiting." She murmured.

"Good. Listen, you'll hear what needs to be done. And when you hear the call, I'll need you to come running. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Ohgma bless and keep you, Maerdith."

"You as well, Morisato Keiichi."

He watched her stumble away, disappearing into the burgeoning crowd. Ruthart pushed next to his elbow and waited silently.

"Not going to make any last requests?"

"Will it change your mind?"

"Nope."

"Then I'd rather not waste the air."

"Waste not, want not." Keiichi grinned, patting the gnome lightly on the back. Ruthart smiled sadly in return. "Guard her Ruthart. Look after her and help her through this. She's going to need a friend or two in the next few days."

"I will. Don't worry." He nodded. "You will be coming back to us, won't you Master Keiichi?"

"I plan to, Ruthart. Until then, you're going to be my Voice. Remember that the needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few or the one."

"Then why are you doing this?" The gnome demanded. "We need you here. The temple is just getting off the ground. We need your guidance!"

"This is where I'm drawn, Ruthart. As I am to you, She is to me. Without her, I am useless to the world."

Ruthart sighed and nodded.

"I think I understand."

"You will someday, Master Gambool. Of that I am certain." He clasped hands with the young gnome and sent him to find and comfort Maerdith. Then he turned to his mechanical son. "Are you ready, Kazuki-chan?"

"Yes, sir!" Steam vented from the bottom of his head and Keiichi laughed. "Father?"

"Yes, son?"

"Do I get to go with you to meet, Momma's dad?"

"No, Kazuki-chan. You have a very important job; one that only you can accomplish."

"What's that?" He asked eagerly.

"Do you see these people, son?" Kazuki-chan nodded. "I need you to protect them. Keep them alive and bring them out of Undermountain alive, at all costs. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" He saluted, rattling his chains loudly and drawing worried looks from all those around him. Keiichi patted his massive leg affectionately and moved over to Jaster and Tamlith. A sudden sense of incessant tugging pulled on his heart, and his mind was suddenly awash with ideas. He grinned impishly and hastened closer to his party leaders.

"We're about ready to depart, Master Keiichi." The large man said.

"Good." He nodded. "I wanted to explain a slight change in plans before we descend."

"Changing plans even before we enter Halaster's Hell, Master Keiichi?" Tamlith shook her head. Keiichi held up a hand to forestall her rebuke.

"Bear with me, Mistress Ghuir. I fully acknowledge that we cannot hope to beat Halaster at his own game. Therefore I propose introducing him to a different challenge. One that I hope will intrigue him enough to ensure your survival and safety."

"And what is this challenge you propose?" Jaster asked curiously.

"A race." At their bewildered expressions, he leaned over the most recent maps that they'd been able to acquire and laid out his plan. It was bold, it was just this side of mad, but it was totally unexpected. Halaster at the very least wouldn't be expecting the gambit. They left three hours later than they'd planned on, since Keiichi and many of the denizens of the temple needed the extra time to put together some sturdy cars that would trail behind Kazuki-chan in a train. It was a first in the history of the Yawning Portal, and in many cases the most memorable expedition in recent memory.

No one was going into the dungeon for fame or fortune. They were going in for love. Thus, when the last member of the Company of the Heart disappeared down the massive well, and the ropes and chains were hoisted out of the pit, Durnan bought the gathered crowd a round much to their pleasure. He toasted the Company's bravery and offered a prayer to whatever gods might be listening that those brave souls might return hale and whole. Unbeknownst to him, there were three women standing near Maerdith, comforting the young priestess that heard that plea. Each of them smiled and nodded to one another as they gently held the young woman.

Keiichi might be off limits, but they'd just been given a door to make certain that these other brave souls came out of this adventure alive.

/(0)\\\\\\

If there was one certainty about Ranma Saotome, male or female, it was this: he or she was unconquerable. It didn't matter how much life crapped on him, it didn't matter how many troubles Genma threw her way – somehow, and in some way, Ranma would come out on top. His methods were often messy. Her solutions often caused more trouble than they solved in the long run. But the one constant in Ranma's core was the insurmountable will that drove the martial artist to succeed.

This is what set him apart from the rest of Creation.

He never gave up and never accepted anything less that his desired results. He might suffer the occasional setback, but he never truly failed at anything he set his mind to. He growled as Shar made her appearance, walking from the darkness, her body sheathed in stars and the void.

"Lo, how the Arrogant falter." The goddess of loss glided, all rolling hips and curves; oozing sensuality and sex. "How do you like your chains, godling? T'Nuinthor, Lord of Prisons, was once a lover of mine, until he looked above his station. This was his reward. Delicious irony is it not?"

"Come a little closer and I'll show you irony, bitch."

"Your defiance is crude." She taunted. "You have no style."

"I got plenty of styles, Lady. Let me free and I'll show you each and every one of them."

"Tempting offer…" She glided around his back and let her hands trail along his flank. Ranma flipped up and over backwards with blinding speed, intent on wrapping his legs around her throat. She laughed and disappeared in a puff of black smoke. "So much stamina! Even with them draining all of your power! I am so looking forward to breaking you."

"Lady, You can't break me. Better than you have tried."

"YOU DARE!" She was suddenly in his face, clutching his throat and lifting his feet fully from the ground. "YOU DARE TO COMPARE ME TO A MORTAL!"

Ranma just grinned smugly and moved. He pulled heavily on the shadows to augment his strike; and so when his kick connected with her upper thigh, Shar's avatar screamed out in agony as the leg snapped. The body fell to the ground, and Ranma pressed his follow-through forward. A blindingly fast series of kicks, channeled through a variation of the Amaguriken, worked the avatar over until the last strike connected to the being's neck, snapping it outright. The use of divine power to charge his kicks made certain that the avatar wasn't getting back up.

"_IMPOSSIBLE!_" The darkness around him roared. Ranma snorted.

"Bitch. That's my middle name."

Shar screeched in unholy rage and the room shook with her fury.

"You jest now, but I will see you suffer! You will know my loss!"

He felt her presence depart and rolled his neck. He looked heavenward and sighed tiredly, still feeling the drain from whatever infernal machine was beneath his feet.

"Why do you always saddle me with the psychos?"

The room and the heavens remained perfectly silent. He waited patiently, watching the door expectantly. He wasn't forced to wait long as his mirror pushed the door open.

"Did you really need to piss her off?" The real Ranma nudged the dead body on the floor with his foot. The beautiful Shadovar woman, dressed in the robes of Shar's faithful, stared up at him with empty eyes.

"I was getting bored." The clone shrugged. "Besides you would have done the same thing, so quit giving me crap."

"Yeah. Yeah. Hold out your hands."

The clone did as asked and Ranma reached out and tapped them with a finger. They exploded in a puff of dust and bone splinters. The clone rubbed its wrists and popped his shoulders. He had a decidedly eager gleam in his eyes.

"So what happened? You cut me off?"

"Had to. They were sucking me dry."

"And the Wonder Twins?"

"One popped with all the feedback. The other's tracking Sefaril."

"Well? What are we waiting for? Let's go bust some heads!"

"You really think I'm going to a bunch of evil pricks turn me into some sort of damn battery and let it slide?" He slapped the clone upside the head causing it to pop and the energy to be reabsorbed. He was filled with sensations and memories, and a fury that seriously needed an outlet.

The cold rage that now encompassed him as he tracked his other clone and, through him, the rest of his precious people, pulled the residual enchantments from the very walls of the city, making the very stone brittle and worn. He stormed upward, bounding from landing to landing blindingly fast. And in his passing, the stone aged and crumbled to dust. He erupted from the belly of the city with a sonic boom that collapsed the great hall the he'd been imprisoned under.

He didn't pause in his haste. A sudden panicked vision of the very pregnant Sefaril tied to post, surrounded by a protective ring of his students pressed him to move faster. Aelin, Ked, and Ethalliandra, were in the middle of some arena and that pissed him off even more. The halls and streets he tore through turned to dust, as he sucked the ambient magic from the rest of the city to replenish his own flagging reserves. The many inhabitants not in the coliseum were left to scramble for cover. Those poor few Shadovar that tried to raise an alarm were silenced with extreme prejudice, while those brave enough to stand against him were simply shattered.

He was close now. The other clone was unable to breach the barrier that surrounded the floor of the arena, so Ranma reabsorbed him. He could feel Aelin's worry for Sefaril, Ked, and Ethalliandra. The first he could generally feel, but she was vague and fuzzy. That concerned him more than he'd ever admit. Ked and Ethalliandra were too focused for his comfort. The edge of their emotions was sharp and harrowed, as if they were being pressed. Were they losing whatever battle they were fighting? No, there was no panic or true distress in them. It was more adrenaline and determination than fear.

He could see a great coliseum in the distance and growled. The streets were too slow. Time to take the high road. He leapt, taking to the roof tops, ignoring the fact that every time his foot touched a building's roof the magic sustaining it was added to his already powerful reserves. That each building imploded as soon as his foot left it was also ignored. He was only focused on getting to the arena before it was too late.

The gate guardians at the coliseum were mowed down by two very invisible and very large and deadly vacuum blades. Since he'd fired them off well before he'd come in sight of the poor fools, they were dead long before he entered the stadium itself. He could hear Sefaril's baby now. Her tiny voice called out to him in panic and fear. It drove him into a red zone. He no longer addressed the minor nuisances of those few willing to stand against him; he simply absorbed the spark of magic that gave them life as he purposely moved unerringly up through the slave tunnels.

He had built up a good head of steam, but was still smart enough to know that surprise was his friend. He couldn't feel Shar, but he knew she was still here somewhere. The improved version of the Umisen-ken would erase his presence from even her formidable senses. She wouldn't know what hit her until it was well and truly too late. But the first thing he had to be certain of was Sefaril and the baby.

His path took him up a long ramp at an impossible speed, the heavy stone gates that led to the arena loomed before him. He didn't even bother to slow as he hit them, blowing the massive rock portal completely off of its hinges. The surprised sentries screamed in his wake. Ranma, aglow with eldritch lightning soared through the air and tore the barrier apart like tissue paper, slamming into the bleachers causing the whole stadium to rock and shake. Cloaked as he was, no one could see him, but they could certainly feel him. He looked down at the sandy pit far below him, and could still see a pitched battle being fought. The spectators were not even watching the blood being spilt any longer.

Sefaril looked up at him and smiled. She could feel him! His anger flared even hotter at the thought of these people, sitting here in their comfort as monsters and men are killing each other left and right – with his Sefaril as the apparent prize! He roared and launched himself downward causing the entire section he'd been standing in to explode. The crowd screamed in fear as the massive building became a plume of dust and stone.

As fast as he was, as rapid as his magical transit was, Ranma arrived too late. A flash of steel, a spray of blood, and he saw her eyes widen. Shar's triumphant laughter echoed throughout the tumult of the arena. He landed before her and with a gesture she was free, falling into the safety of his arms.

The monsters continued fighting amongst themselves as much as they were fighting Sefaril's champions. The barrier that once acted as a control for the Shadovar puppeteers was gone, and chaos reigned supreme. The scent of blood and fire assaulted Ranma's senses as he did his best to stem to tide of Sefaril's wound. Magic welled within him, and yet for all of his power and all his skill, he couldn't heal her. He looked up and down her body, looking for whatever it was that was impeding his spells. The mark of Shar, freshly branded, and still weeping puss and blood, glared at him mockingly.

The baby's psychic cries tore at his heart and he felt both mother and daughter slipping away. Unknown to him, silver flames and tendrils of shadowy lightning began to dance along his skin. The Weave and Shadow Weave sang in his mind as he reached out to sever Shar's pull. His attempts slid off the soul curse angrily, forcing him to abandon his efforts to cut the spell. Instead he latched on to it and began pulling.

The darkness of the royal box was rent and he saw Shar being pulled into the light. He snarled and renewed his magical tug of war. The goddess of loss was surprised, but redoubled her efforts.

An ilithid latched onto Ranma's head, attempting to dominate the godling's mind. The millions of voices of Myth Dranor rose up within him, and the mindflayer screamed, and the crowd seated above, joined him, crying out in torment as the abomination projected its agony outward. The creature's head exploded, in a fine pink mist and its charred body fell to the wayside. The githyanki warrior that had been attempting to kill the ilithid burst into silver flame and fell on a Shadovar warrior. The conflagration passed from there, hungrily looking for more fuel to assuage its voracious hunger. More creatures attacked the apparently undefended target, but Ranma crushed them without blinking.

Their souls were absentmindedly absorbed by the godling, as he sought for more power to aid him in his battle with the goddess of loss. It was then that the very fabric of reality tore and Ranma-chan stepped through. He felt his soul sing in her presence and a sense of near completion filled him. Others filed through, but he paid them no heed. His eyes tracked his other half, arresting on Koneko-chan when she came into his line of sight. Yet another missing piece found, he roared with joy and victory. He pulled Shar completely from her feet, and watched in satisfaction as she hit the floor of the arena amidst the blood and sand.

Shar pushed her new avatar to its feet, worry and anger war on her face. She looked to the other figures that now ring her round about, and that fear becomes terror. The spell she suddenly loosed was meant to drain Ranma's energy and add it to her own, but rather than being overwhelmed as she expected, Ranma simply snarled. And absorbed the spell and the souls of the dead and dying. Aelin, Ked, and Ethelliandra gathered at his back as he cradled Sefaril's dying body close.

"You stole her from me Shar. You broke me."

"And you are so free from guilt and fault?" Shar hissed. "You rejected all that I had to offer you! You rejected me!"

"No Shar. I didn't." Ranma-chan stepped forward to stand beside her male aspect guardedly, resting her hand on his shoulder. Her voice faded and echoed as Ranma absorbed her back into himself. "I simply asked for you to wait until things had settled down a bit."

"LIAR!" The shadows boiled angrily. "Your heart rejected me. ME! The Goddess of Night! Again and again, you ignore my attentions! And for what? THAT?"

She stabbed a finger at Sefaril.

"Is it any wonder?" Koneko-chan growled. She butted her head up against Ranma's other shoulder and followed her sister back to where she belonged. "You're worse than Kodachi in your approach. In your pride, you assume I would be overwhelmed by your promises and innuendo. Well lady, let me tell you something – better than you have tried, and failed to win me."

Shar screamed and the shadows exploded, violently spewing forth a number of monstrosities that began attacking anything in sight. Ranma shook his head and gestured, dismissing half the creatures with but a wave. The powers at followed roared and launched yet another arcane attack outward in a violent ring. The composition of the spell caused both Selune and Angharradh to curse and duck. Sharess seeing them fall to the floor of the stadium, followed their lead. Shar ignored them in favor of watching Ranma with an insane grin on her face. Ranma tried to absorb the spell, but the moment it touched him, he screamed and lashed out in a desperate attempt to vent the poisonous energy. Everything, with the exception of Sefaril and the baby, within thirty meters of him died instantly. Ranma felt his disciples sudden sense of shock and surprise as their bodies fell to the brutalized earth. Their spirits called out to him weakly as they were literally shredded into nothingness.

"Know loss, Thief."

Grief tore through Ranma's soul as they were erased from the fabric of reality. He spun on Shar, only to see her fading from view. The other powers moved to bind her, but were too late. Her laughter echoed throughout the arena.

"Mistress!" The Prince of the Shadovar cried out. "Do not forsake us!"

Her whispered voice laughed cruelly as it faded from Toril.

"None may enslave a god for their sport, without paying the consequences."

/(0)\\\\\\

Undermountain

"THIRTY FEET!" Keiichi yelled over the roar of Kazuki-chan's drill. They'd been running for six days now. After all the preparation and all the planning, Halaster had still pressed them and pushed them to the brink. Keiichi had just under one day left to meet his deadline, and they were thirty feet of rock and approximately one hundred yards from the goal. And something told Keiichi that he would end up needing that last day just to cross the small distance.

Halaster's mad glee at trying to trap them, ambush them, and otherwise prevent them from attaining their goal had forced the company to be creative in their progress. They'd by passed traps and puzzles alike, and with the aid of magic, turned tons of stone to mud in order to escape the army of monsters that Halaster had sent after them.

They hadn't evaded everything, and had been forced to fight more than a few times. Invisible assassins, undead, elementals, Drow. They'd fought them all, and come through it alive and relatively whole. Dole had lost an eye, and Fiona a finger to a particularly nasty set of traps that they couldn't dig around or under. Halaster even tried to throw a few portals in their path, but Jaster's god, and Keiichi's tech allowed them to ferret these anomalies out before they ran afoul of them.

By contractual agreement, they all vowed not to steal anything from the Mad Mage. Instead, Keiichi offered to pay them each a set sum that would allow them to live comfortably for the next five years. The sum would be a monthly payment from the temple for services rendered. This, he hoped, would insulate them a little more from the insane wizard's wrath. If anything, their dogged advancement had only piqued the wizard's interest. So much so, in fact, that he actually confronted the group…or some facsimile of the mage had confronted the group, on the fourth day of their press.

The dialogue was short, and disappointing in that Halaster had actually chastised Keiichi, like a grandfather would their impetuous grandson, for invading another man's home when asking for entrance and safe passage would have gained him all he needed and more. Keiichi was ashamed and did in fact apologize. However Halaster would have neither his apology, nor Keiichi's attempts to barter for passage. Instead, Halaster told him point blank that he started something, and now he was going to have to finish it.

From that moment forward, they moved without stopping to rest or sleep. Kazuki-chan's train had lost two cars, and the Company had taken to resting in shifts while moving forward. The running battle was fatiguing, as Halaster's minions seemed endless. It was a harsh and unrelenting, yet still they moved forward.

"TWENTY FEET!" Keiichi glanced down at the motion detector and blanched. "IN COMING! MULTIPLE SIGNATURES."

His companions set themselves, wounded and fatigued beyond endurance though they were. It is amazing how close people become amidst shared suffering. Keiichi had grown to know them through the small intimate details that he'd picked up on over the last six days. The dwarves, gruff and dirty, had the purest loyalty he'd ever encountered, outside of Bell. Jaster, even keeled and honest – Keiichi had found in him a role model. Tamlith was very much like Jaster, yet there was a cynical air about her that gave her tongue just the right amount of sharpness.

Isma and Derrik were open and friendly, and their faith unquestionable. To him, it was amazing that someone could believe in something so purely, and so deeply that it became the foundation of their lives. Their faith defined them. It maintained them. It succored them when life would otherwise overwhelm them. Even now, he could feel the power of their prayers reaching heavenward.

And last, but never least, was Uster. The Weave Dancer was optimism incarnate. He was the male version of Megumi; same attitude, same comportment, same drive. The fact that he was a living magical weapon of mass destruction, made Keiichi quietly thank every divine power that his baby sister had never found an interest in the martial arts.

"TEN FEET! SIGNATURES ARE TWENTY METERS OUT AND CLOSING!" Keiichi sighed as he looked at the motion detector. There was no doubt that they were going to be over run. He watched as Tamlith cast a spell, noting that the air itself seemed to harden five feet in front of them. Uster stepped forward to the edge of the shield and took a deep breath. No matter how many times he saw this, it always amazed Keiichi. Tamlith was looking more and more intrigued after each time too. Uster's body began to glow with a golden aura and then he cried out, the sound drowning out the noise of Kazuki-chan's drill. The familiar explosion of heat washed over them all as the massive cone of fire was launched up the earthen tube.

The flame thrower technique baked the earth around them, and Keiichi could hear screams of agony further up. He turned his head away, both in shame at the cost of life and self-loathing for placing all of them in this position. He didn't doubt his love for Belldandy, but he was seriously doubting his worthiness of her love. There was a lurch and Kazuki-chan was suddenly pushing through into a well-lit, and well appointed…tea room?

Keiichi looked back at his companions, only to find that they were no longer there. Even Kazuki-chan was missing! He panicked and looked down at his sensors. There was no reading! Keiichi cast about for something, anything that could tell him where he was. The imposing figure of Halaster stepped from a doorway that appeared from a bare wall. The man was wild, his hair unkempt and his robes tattered and awash with various unidentifiable stains. Yet, for all the madness in his appearance, the man's eyes were clear and lucid.

For the moment anyway.

"Terrible feeling isn't it?"

"What?" Keiichi felt his stomach knot and a cold feeling wash down his spine.

"To be so close to your goal, only to have it yanked from your grasp?"

Dread filled him.

"Where are the others?" He demanded.

"Safe." He motioned to the tea setting. "Forgive my rudeness, Mister Morisato. Please, sit. I will pour."

Not knowing what else to do, Keiichi complied. Halaster poured the tea, and the familiar scent of Bell's favorite blend filled his nose.

"She was here." There was no need to question it.

"She was."

"I thought she was forbidden from interfering with my quest."

Halaster laughed mightily.

"Mortal, immortal, man, or god…" The wizard shook his head in bemusement. "It doesn't matter who you are, the universe revolves around you and no one else."

Halaster conjured an elaborate spread of pastries with the negligent wave of his hand.

"No Innovator, she was not here for you. The goddesses three came on the behalf of those worthies that accompanied you into my mountain. They were polite enough to ask before entering too."

Keiichi hung his head.

"Bah! Youth! Wasted on children and squandered away thoughtlessly." He shook his head and picked up a large lemon tart. He stabbed it in Keiichi's direction violently. "She brokered for their safe return to Waterdeep. Lucidity and you, for their lives and health. A fair bargain, I should think."

"Me?"

"Surprised? I should think so. It's always such a bittersweet sight, seeing a person sold out by someone that they love." He grinned darkly. "Her loss, my gain. I look forward to our time together, Mister Morisato. I've delved further than any living man, into the depths of magic and the workings of the universe. I have learned a thing or two about the usefulness of a godling."

"Bell wouldn't do that. She wouldn't give me to you."

"Oh, and pray tell me why? Because she loves you?" Halaster laughed coldly. "What is love, Boy? A cascade of chemical reactions that press a race to procreate! You are a fool to believe in such drivel. She sold you to save the lives of your Companionship! The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the one. Isn't that what you said?"

Keiichi fell silent, watching Halaster. The flush of adrenaline was wearing off, and he was beginning to think straight again. He maintained his silence, neither eating nor drinking anything. He closed his eyes and centered himself. Bell was right, if she had done such a thing. The Company had no more business dealing with his quest.

"Nothing to say?" He snorted. "Pah! It is to be expected. I have watched you, godling. I've watched as you pranced about, relying on the gifts and sacrifices of others. Weak, arrogant, foolish child! What use are you? You refuse to stand up for your beliefs! And you cannot justify your actions."

He sneered, his face twisting in a terrible mockery of a smile. Keiichi glowered back at the man. He didn't need a damn lecture from a man that was a few sticks short of a pocky box.

"You aspire to heights that you aren't worthy of, Morisato. But do not worry, I promise to make good use of the power locked within you."

"And what makes you think I'll let you?" The young man lowered his head, hiding his face from the wizard.

"Do you truly believe you can stand against me?" Halaster looked at the young man shrewdly and then snarled. "What power do you possess to stop me? You bumble about like a ham-fisted drunkard far into his cups! You create toys to amuse the masses."

Keiichi looked away and closed his eyes. He didn't need this. He was so close to his goal, and this crazy bastard was lecturing him! Wait. He didn't need this…HE DIDN'T NEED THIS! Keiichi blotted out the Mad Mage's voice in favor of finding his center again. What did he need? He needed to make his appointment. He needed to find the Celestial Stair. He needed to leave here.

He focused everything on leaving. He focused on standing up and walking away; walking towards where he could still feel the Celestial Stair resonating against the rest of the background energies. He focused on his needs and ignored Halaster's obnoxious raging. He ignored the spells that the wizard hurled at him, and the attempts to bind him. He didn't need to be bound, he needed to get to Cennosure. He stepped, one foot in front of the other, until he felt himself ascending.

A small smile flittered across his lips as he felt his progress. He didn't count the steps, nor did he care to acknowledge the passage of time. All he was aware of was the need to do what needed to be done, for his future…for Bell's future.

"Halt!" The voice was heavy, and laden with authority. "Who seeks Cennosure?"

The young god opened his eyes and found himself faced with a giant human male, decked out in a suit of gleaming full plate armor, standing before a massive metal gate. The portal was unlike anything he'd ever imagined, covered in runes that told the history of Toril from its birth, and hinted at the possible futures that lay before it. Keiichi brought his attention back to the guardian. The being's face was completely covered by a helm. Keiichi took a deep breath and presented himself as boldly as he could; in spite of the terror he was feeling at the moment.

"I am Keiichi Morisato. Some call me the Innovator, others the Beloved of Belldandy. I was commanded to present myself at this time, and in this place."

"To what end?" The guardian demanded.

"To speak with the Almighty, to interview for the right of His daughter's hand."

The guardian lifted his helm and a blinding light forced Keiichi to shut his eyes.

"The Vigilant One sees all truth, Innovator. Your heart is laid bare before me." The guardian's voice turned warm. "I wish you success in this meeting with Those Who Sit Above All. Enter and find peace."

Keiichi bowed low to the guardian as the massive doors swung open to admit him. When they were fully open, he stepped forward on shaking legs and with a pounding heart. He'd made it. The moment was here. In just a few moments, he was going to meet with the Almighty. He was going to ask _the_ _Almighty_ to marry Belldandy!

How in the hell was he going to do that? It wasn't like he could just come out and say: _Hey, God. Uh, see…I love your daughter…and well, I know I'm not even in the same zip code as she is, but well…I'd like to marry her._

He could just imagine it...

_So, Keiichi, what makes you think you're worthy of my daughter?_

Then there was that one question that all dads ask the moron that wants to marry their princesses:

_What are your plans for the future? How are you going to provide for my baby girl?_

What was he supposed to say to that? _I plan on being an automotive engineer and maybe race a bit._ Right, like that would go over…

**Hello Keiichi. **

The weight of the being's presence pressed him immediately to his knees. How could he not? Everything that he was, everything that he'd done or said or thought was laid bare before those words. What he wasn't expecting was the overwhelming sense of acceptance and unconditional love backing the words. He couldn't help himself, he started crying.

**We're glad you could make it. You're right on time. Come and have a seat, we have a lot to talk about.**

"Yes, Sir." He swallowed and somehow drug himself to a chair that he was certain wasn't there a second ago.

**Now then, Son. I have it on good authority that you want to marry my daughter. Let's talk about that for a moment.**

Keiichi swallowed, nodded, and silently wished Bell were here. Sad thing was…she wasn't. He sighed and gathered his courage yet again, then lifted his eyes. Looking the Almighty in the face, he smiled and nodded. He'd come this far, there was no way that he would back down now. He owed Belldandy that much. She was counting on him doing his best. He couldn't let her down.

"Yes, Sir."

/(0)\\\\\\

Juuban, Tokyo  
Mugen Gakuen  
Some other Earth…maybe

Serenity woke upside down with a splitting headache. The acrid smell of burnt mana and ozone filled the air, telling her more about where she was than her eyes could at the moment – a war zone. The tension of battle was heavy along side the powdered concrete in the air. She felt the body holding her shift, most notably the part that was palming her firm bottom.

"You really missed the light show." The man's voice from earlier slowly filtered into her slushy, achy, brain; as did the not so subtle grope when he rolled his shoulder. "It's been about fifteen minutes since you passed out and the little firefly pretty much kicked the bad guy's butt. Sad thing is she apparently killed the world with her last attack. I figure we have about three minutes before all hell breaks loose. It should make for an interesting sight. So, are you feeling any better?"

"Well enough to walk thank you." She said dryly. The man didn't seem to get the hint. "Can you please remove your hand from my butt and put me down? _Right_. _Now_."

"You know, for the subconscious representation of my repressed sexuality you certainly aren't playing to script." The man shook his head and set Serenity on her feet. "I wonder what it means when the girl in your dreams refuses to stay in character?"

By way of answer, Serenity kneed him in the groin as hard as she could. He dropped to the ground heavily amidst the rest of the settling rubble.

"Perhaps it means that this isn't a dream." Serenity took stock of her surroundings, and her mind was awash with memories; sadly none of them good. The man groaned at her feet as she stepped through the detritus and walked to the edge of the roof top she was on. Hotaru was nowhere to be seen, and neither was Pharaoh 90. All that she saw were the clouds of dust and fires of destruction that came in the aftermath of Saturn's Death Reborn Revolution. She didn't remember the magnitude of destruction, but she did remember the oppressive emptiness and unnatural silence that followed Saturn's attack. She still had nightmares of it on occasion.

A bright light exploded from amidst the darkness and, to her immense shock, Serenity found herself watching a younger version of herself materialize in the ether right before her. Goddess! Had she ever been that young?

The gargantuan amount of magical energy blazing from the figure before her was incredible, yet it still hardly measured up to what Serenity had experienced not so very long ago when she embraced her heritage as Mystra's daughter. She watched as the tendrils of mana stretched out to caress the world that Saturn had destroyed.

"So…this is the past…" She whispered.

"Not the past." The man's voice was soft, serious, and unfortunately free of the agony she'd hoped to inflict on him. "Maybe a parallel world or something similar. It happens to me all the time." He smiled and shrugged, holding out a small box of something in her direction. "Pocky?"

Serenity looked at the box carefully, noting that it was strawberry-kiwi flavored before she snagged a couple sticks. She returned her attention back to the familiar drama unfolding before her. Pharaoh 90's weak voice echoed loudly in the quiet.

_((I must escape! I must return to our home system!))_

Serenity tuned the freakish bastard out and looked to where Saturn had reappeared. She remembered this moment oh, so clearly. Hotaru, such a frail and broken girl, proudly standing in the face of a dark god and giving everything she had…intent on sacrificing herself in order to atone for imagined sins. Damn it! She hated the thought of such an innocent suffering for the pride and greed of others.

"Now! The end is near! I, Sailor Saturn, the guide to death, will lead you to the world of silence and nothingness."

"That would be my cue." The man beside her sighed and vanished the box of pocky. In place of the snack, a wicked looking scythe appeared. He smiled at Serenity and held out his hand. "Sorry for the misunderstanding and the liberties I took. I really thought I was dreaming. It seems some of my family members decided to play a joke on us."

Serenity blinked.

"Wait! Who _are_ you?"

"Most people call me Mr. Black. But, I've grown kind of fond of Joe." The man paused and looked over to Hotaru. "Well, damn. This complicates things. Just wait here a moment while I do my thing. We'll continue this when I'm not so distracted. Alright?"

Serenity nodded as he climbed onto a translucent horse and rode off into the sky. She watched him disappear into the raging magical storm that was building up around the Senshi of Death. It was then that Hotaru's last words cut through the air to settle deep in Serenity's heart.

"Do not be distraught. Always with the end, comes hope and rebirth. You are the one that brings that, Super Sailor Moon."

_Super Sailor Moon?_ Serenity grimaced. _Damn that was really cheesy!_

Gale force winds carried away the next part of Hotaru's dialogue, but the sweet little girl's voice cut through the tempest proudly proclaiming the last words of advice that Serenity had shamefully forgotten.

"I am the Senshi who brings the death and destruction necessary for rebirth. This land is destined to become the Silver Millennium. Its sacred power is your ally."

Serenity wept as the mana built to a crescendo, drowning out everything but her own memories. She knew the words of sacrifice. She knew what was to come…a death that should never have happened. Yet, how could she change the out come? If Hotaru didn't die here, she wouldn't have been reborn to temper the Outer Senshi's coldness.

Then again, had baby Hotaru truly done much good for Michiru and Haruka? The battles against Galaxia had shown that they were still willing to kill their own daughter in order to achieve their desired goals.

Serenity shook her head.

No. Hotaru's death and subsequent rebirth had been meaningless to the pair in the end. She couldn't afford to allow such a travesty to occur again. Hotaru deserved better! She'd earned the right to be loved unconditionally, rather than to be treated as a sacrifice on the altar of someone else's pride.

"DARK DOME CLOSE!" Pluto's attack began to seal the dimensional rift, and Serenity acted.

The gravitational forces tore Saturn's body asunder, leaving the raw mana and spiritual energies of her Star Seed bare. She was disgusted at how slow her younger counter part had been to act, and poured everything she had into achieving what needed to be done here to appease justice and righteousness. Using all the ambient energy around her, as well as the power of the Ginzuisho to boost her own sorcery, Serenity began weaving the spell that she desired – a spell of resurrection. The body was rebuilt and the spirit and Star Seed collected. Now all she needed to do was fuse them all together again.

"Gently." A pair of gloved hands wrapped around hers, easing the strain and subtly guiding her efforts. "Easy now. Bring her back slowly."

His voice was calm and focused, aiding her concentration greatly. And in no time at all their hands were filled with the warm, naked body of a dark haired infant. The symbol of Saturn blazed brilliantly on her brow. Serenity couldn't help but cry at the sight of the precious little girl.

"I'll do right by you this time, Hotaru-chan."

She nuzzled the baby as the healing waves of her dimensional counterpart's spell washed over the broken world, restoring it to life once more. Joe's hands settled on Serenity's shoulders, gently guiding her away from the edge of the roof top. She held little Hotaru close, shielding her body from the cold air as best she could. The dark haired man conjured a diaper, a full outfit, and a soft blanket for the baby as they walked towards his pale horse. He smiled down at Hotaru's sleepy face before looking up at Serenity. Her frowning face sent shivers down his spine.

"So…are you sure you're not the subconscious representation of my repressed sexuality?" He asked, cocking his head to the side and looking her up and down again.

"Shall I prove it to you again?" Serenity growled.

He held up his hands to ward off the blow.

"Not necessary! Not necessary! I just had to make sure." He sighed and looked up at his horse. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to keep this to yourself, would you?"

"What's in it for me?"

He sighed and shook his head as he helped her into the saddle. Serenity smiled toothily. The Simbul's lessons in haggling were going to come in handy after all. Their adventures thereafter were many and varied. Time ran fluidly backwards, forwards, and in some strange cases from side to side. And through it all, Serenity never let go of Hotaru. It was strange that the baby didn't seem to age. Perhaps it was the nature of moving so randomly through time, but Serenity didn't mind in the least. Hotaru-chan was an angel, and the anchor she needed in her life at the moment.

It took her a long time to recognize Joe for who and what he was; but by that time, she'd been able to work through her issues with death and killing. They'd shared their burdens, and she acknowledged the need that someone needed to carry the burden so that others didn't have to. It was a bittersweet realization. Which brought them to this moment, situated somewhere in the early twentieth century France, just before the outbreak of World War II.

They strolled placidly through the Parc du Champs de Mars, with the Eiffel Tower acting as an ideal backdrop. The brisk fall air was refreshing, and the pair pushing the stroller looked to be the perfect family enjoying a wonderful Saturday outing.

"So, do you miss it?" Joe asked.

"What?"

"Whatever it was that you were running from."

"All the time." Serenity smiled softly. "It's hard though, you know?"

"What?"

"Being stuck between two worlds, and wanting to stay in both."

Joe chuckled.

"I can sympathize."

Serenity laughed with him.

"I suppose you can at that. So, what are you going to do? It sounds like you and Kara were getting serious before you left on this little adventure."

"Play it by ear." Joe shrugged. "Enjoy the rest of my vacation; find a way to keep a revolving door between the two universes."

"Long distant relationships suck, Joe."

"Tell me about it."

"You should ask her to go back with you." Serenity pressed as she adjusted the blanket in Hotaru's pram to cover the baby a bit better. The fall chill was starting to come in and she didn't want the baby to catch a cold.

"So you keep telling me, Miss Matchmaker."

"Are you going to listen to me this time?"

"Maybe." They laughed as they walked, enjoying the sights, the beautiful day, and the magnificent Parisian ambiance. They knew it wouldn't last forever. And in that, they were correct.

"Ahem." Serenity and Joe turned; the former gasping and the latter raising an eyebrow. Susan, leading Binky as calm as you please, approached them along the path leading back to the Avenue Joseph Bouvard. She looked rather cross. "Are you finished running?"

"That depends." Joe asked with a grin. "Are you finished chasing?"

Susan sighed and rubbed her temple.

"Hello, Uncle Joseph."

"Hello, Susie. How's your Granddad?"

"Petulant."

"Oh?"

"Rincewind." It was a statement, and Serenity felt certain that the word had to be a name. Joe nodded sagely and tried very hard not to laugh.

"What's a Rincewind?" Serenity asked.

"A wizard…" Susan stated. Joe snorted and shook his head. "After a fashion."

"So, Suzie…" Joe shrugged off the LOOK as if it were nothing. "What brings you chasing after me? I'm on vacation."

"You're always on vacation, Uncle Joseph."

"True." Joe nodded thoughtfully. "But, I always seem to do more work on my vacations than I do the rest of the time."

"Invariably." Susan sighed, patting Binky. Joe released Mortis and allowed the Pookah and Death's steed to commiserate. "Unfortunately, I'm not here for you Uncle. I'm here for my student."

"She's your super, awesome, very strict but still totally cool teacher?" Joe asked pointing at Susan. Serenity blushed and nodded. Susan raised an eyebrow. "Suzie's…"

"Shut up, Joe." Serenity growled.

"Right." He snickered. "Shutting up."

"Are you here to take me back?"

"Do I have to repeat my earlier question?"

"No, Susan." Serenity sighed and picked Hotaru out of the stroller. "I'm ready. Joe, if you would be so kind?"

A few swishes and a flick or two of his wand, shrunk the stroller. Joe then turned his attention to digging in his coat pockets, pulling out a large magical trunk and a number of suitcases. The last to appear were a diaper bag and very large stuffed horse that bore a striking resemblance to Mortis. Serenity handed the baby to Joe for a moment, while she wriggled her way into the baby sling. Once settled, she took Hotaru back and secured her before pulling out her own wand and shrinking everything to fit in her handbag.

"What's all this then?"

Serenity raised an eyebrow and planted a fist on her free hip.

"You honestly don't expect me to leave Hotaru-chan with Joe, do you?"

"Considering all the nonsense that he stumbles upon, I think you are being very responsible."

Susan peeked over the edge of the sling and was met with a wide-eyed violet stare. There was a connection instantly formed; primal and eternal. Whether Susan realized it in that moment, she had become an aunt. Startled by the sudden urge to squeal and pinch the baby's cheeks, Susan stepped back and blinked. She shook her head and climbed into Binky's saddle.

"We should be going."

"How long have I been gone?"

"Time really has no meaning for Binky. It's all one rather large mess as far as he's concerned." She looked to the sky. "I should think we'll return to Silverymoon an hour or two after you left this morning."

"Oh, well, that's rather handy."

"Death's never late." Joe grinned.

"Liar." Serenity poked him in the side. She stared at him for a long moment then he found himself swallowed in a bear hug of epic proportions. "Thank you! For everything."

She tried not to cry, really and truly. But, as Joe wrapped his arms around her, the dam broke and the tears began to flow.

"Here now. None of that." His hand dipped into a pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "You have everything you need to contact me, right?"

She nodded into his neck.

"Then there's no problem. Henchgirl and the Doctor are certainly going to call you to check up on Hotaru, and if you need anything you know all you need to do is ask. This isn't goodbye, it's just you going back to work."

"Promise we'll take another vacation?"

"Of course. You going to introduce me to your boyfriend? Or is it boyfriends? I still get mixed up on that point."

Serenity slugged him in the shoulder.

"Jerk. I'm not letting you within a mile of any boyfriend if you intend to give him Xander's horrible shovel speech!"

"Are you trying to deny me my divinely given right to threaten my baby sister's potential love interest?" He clutched his chest dramatically. "Serenity! You wound me!"

She snorted and shook her head.

"You're impossible."

"No. Just improbable." He grinned and wiggled his eye brows.

"I'll miss you."

"I'll call you when we have the family reunion. I expect lots of pictures of Hotaru. I've changed enough diapers to deserve frequent updates."

"Yes, sir."

"Off you go then." He chivvied her up to Binky and helped her mount.

"Can we drop you off anywhere?" Susan asked.

"No. I'm on vacation, and I still need to figure this thing out." He held up the remote and grinned irreverently.

"Safe journey then." She nodded to him. "It was nice to see you again, Uncle."

"You too." He patted Binky's neck. "Be safe. The both of you."

Serenity watched him shrink as Binky took to the air, and in no time she and Susan were gone. Susan nudged Binky's flanks and he increased his speed. The horse, if one could truly call him such, ignored the principles of physics and the laws of nature as it steadily galloped higher and higher into the clouds, leaving a trail of flaming hoof prints glowing on the air in its wake.

To even attempt to call him "grey" would be a terrible insult, and Serenity could see, even without the use of her Business Eyes that this animal was so much more real than the rest of the world. He was even more real than Susan herself, and that was saying something. Looking in the horse's eyes told of its intelligence. Serenity felt dumb, in spite of everything that Susan had been teaching her, when looking in those eyes. It was obvious that this animal had seen things and done things that mortal and immortal alike couldn't readily comprehend. She felt terribly small in the animal's presence.

The world seemed to shift, then twist, compress, and flush itself down the commode; in varying order, multiple times. It was a series of sensations that Serenity decidedly hated, and they managed to endure for far too long. When the universe finally righted itself and Serenity seemed capable of opening her eye without losing what was left of her breakfast and lunch, she saw that Binky was galloping above a very familiar mountain range. Well below them and to their immediate left, lit by the fading evening sun, lay the massive and downright welcome sight of Silverymoon. The multitude of lights sparkled prettily off the water of the river as evening faded into night. Very familiar landmarks could be seen in the distance, but Serenity was too lost at the sensation of being back on Toril to care.

The Weave sang to her, welcoming her back with all the warmth of a motherly hug. After being gone so long, Serenity basked in the sensation. Yet, beneath that warmth swam a sense of foreboding. The insidious sensation settled in the pit of her stomach as Death's stallion began his descent.

"Worried?"

"A little. How do you think Alustriel will react to everything?"

"I imagine that she won't be happy with you when we get back. But, I should think that you would be more worried about Alassra's reaction."

She shuddered and leaned against Susan's back.

"I have no doubt that they will all be quite cross with me." Serenity agreed. "But they'll get over it."

"Hotaru will no doubt help a great deal."

"Yes. A perfect shield to deflect her ire."

"Hiding behind infants? How brave."

"Courage is knowing when to face your enemies, and when it is better to run so you can live to fight another day."

"Careful, your wisdom is showing."

They rode long in silence, passing large clouds and startling a number of flocks of geese as they rode down and above the city proper. Serenity neither felt the cold of the altitude, nor the brace of the frigid winds that she knew inhabited these climes. They landed in the courtyard of Alustriel's palace and were met by a severe gathering of hard faces. Most notable among them were Ulin and Alassra. Serenity sighed and slid off of Binky's back. She made a point of thanking him both with words and a warm kiss to his nose that caused him to shake his head happily. She produced a fairly large apple and fed it to him while Susan dismounted.

Teacher and student shared a glance, and then turned together to face the crowd. Both women were glad that Hotaru was with them. Her presence was definitely the shield they both needed to escape the worst of the ire directed at them. Dinner was spent in quiet conversation, sharing many of her adventures with Joe. She was even coerced into sharing some of the magic that she'd learned from the perpetually vacationing wizard. That more than diffused much of the ire that she'd left behind this morning, and several years past. Serenity rubbed her temple at the headache that was forming.

The sense of unease within her heart was growing louder.

/(0)\\\\\\

The City of Shade

"She's…not…ready." Sefaril gasped a deep breath, gulping down the unimaginable pain, and tried to blink back the tears in her eyes. "Please! Save her!"

"I don't know how!" Ranma protested.

"She needs…needs…to grow more! She needs a…a womb." The woman whimpered in agony. "Please, Lord Ranma!" Sefaril drew a sharp breath, and then was gone. Ranma-kun felt her spirit start to slip away and quickly drew her to him, hugging her body close and gathering her soul and joining it with her husband's. It was a bitter sweet reunion.

"The baby needs a womb." Angharradh watched helplessly as the tears rolled down the cheeks of the newest member of her court.

"We could give her a body." His voice was hoarse but even.

"Do you even know how to do something like that yet?" Sharess demanded. He shook his head in defeat. "I didn't think so."

He turned to Angharradh fiercely.

"You could do it!"

The red headed elven goddess closed her eyes and sighed.

"No, Glauenthiel. I cannot."

"Why the Hell not!"

"Because she is tied to you. She wants none but you." She held her hand over Sefaril's womb and smiled. "Can you not feel her love? Agency is the one power that we gods cannot ignore."

"Well, handsome?" Sharess asked. "You ready?"

"Yes. No." He sighed. "I'm not sure how to do what needs to be done. Let alone how to feel about it."

"Does it really matter?" She smiled softly.

"Damn it. Mom would kill me for doing this." He growled as she pulled him to his feet.

"Mother? What mother?" Sharess asked blankly.

"His mortal mother." Selune offered. "She holds no sway over your destiny though, does she Ranma."

"No." He frowned.

"There is no more time, Ranma." Angharradh moved in behind him and laid her hands on his shoulders. "Are you going to save the baby or not?"

He looked at her sharply.

"Like there was ever any question." He growled, pushing her away and shifting forms from male to female in the blink of an eye. A glowing orb of green light was pulled from Sefaril's corpse and melded with hers. Ranma-chan gasped in pleasure and fulfillment, feeling complete for the first time in a very long while.

Those gathered around her watched with sad smiles as her belly grew to accommodate the budding new life. She bent low and tapped Sefaril's body, causing it to dissolve into motes of light that were drawn into the goddess' being and held safe. Ranma-chan smiled softly as wings, or something that resembled wings, exploded from her back.

Sharess would later describe them as ribbons of shadow and light. Her once flame red hair was leeched of all color, becoming bone white before streaks of ebony, onyx, and ruby shot through her long locks. Her power began to build before her coalescing in a pair of orbs; one of cold silver and another of even colder blackness.

She looked around at the killing fields and felt disgusted. The Shadovar continued their mad exodus from the stadium; their only concern for themselves as they trampled man, woman, and child alike. Children. They brought children to this slaughter! The thick streams of energy leapt from the very ground and air, being forcefully drawn and torn from the city itself.

The Shadovar were beyond panic at that point. They knew the end was at hand. Their hubris however refused to die gracefully though. Those few still loyal to the High Prince heard his barked command and spells of power were cast at the figures below. One fact was clear, their efforts were all for naught. The Weavebender absorbed them one and all into the pulsing balls of magic gathering above her hands. Monsters and otherworldy beings were summoned, only to fall down dead at the feet of their summoners as Ranma sucked the magic from the very air. She turned to the others and smiled softly.

"You should leave."

"What about Shar?" Shevarash demanded.

"All debts will be paid, Emo-Boy." Angharradh and Sharess snorted at the indignation on the Black Archer's face. "She can run from one end of creation to the next, but it won't saver her in the end. She'll pay. For Aelin. For Ked. For Ethelliandra."

The orbs flared once and Ranma's palms bled. Her blood dripped into the sand at her feet, causing it to hiss angrily.

"I swear it."

Shevarash and Angharradh nodded once and vanished. Selune approached slowly and gathered Ranma into a motherly hug.

"She killed them."

"I know, child."

"She killed Sefaril."

"Yes."

"She tried to kill the baby!" Ranma couldn't hold the tears back any longer. "My baby!"

"Teach them the price of their folly, Destroyer. Let them know your sorrow, Lord of Change." Selune kissed Ranma-chan on the forehead and motioned for Sharess to follow her. They departed silently leaving Ranma to stand in the center of the arena, all but alone. The only others that yet remained, were the Prince and his faithful hand, Hadrune.

"You tried to chain my power. You tried to _kill_ my child. Know your place."

The orbs swam with silver and black fires, growing steadily until they reached some twenty feet in diameter. At that point Ranma let go of the spheres of energy and rocketed skyward, her ribbon wings spread wide. She looked down upon the City of Shade in judgment. Her male aspect was a cold fury at the death of Sefaril, while the female aspect was enraged at the innocent life that had almost been snuffed out; the innocent life that was even now growing in her womb. They had tried to enslave her and kill her baby.

The orbs shot together from their positions, expanding radically before collapsing into a tiny pinprick of silent bone white energy.

And like Hiroshima and Nagasaki combined, the City of Shade became a conflagration of silent death, finally joining the legendary Netheril. The violent magics shredded the spells holding the jewel of the Shadovar together, and the subsequent explosion was felt a hundred leagues away in all directions. In the wake of the atomized city, a million souls sought to escape to their afterlife.

"No." Ranma hissed. "I'm not done with you yet."

They rose on spiritual winds and eddies, seeking the portals that would take them to the place of judgment. But their journey to Kelemvor's domain was arrested and they began to be drawn towards another source. They flocked inexorably to their new home: Glauenthiel, the Spirit Sentinel – the great Well of Souls.

She hadn't wanted to collect them. She wanted to bind them to this wretched place; force them to live with their stupidity and greed for the rest of eternity. But in her rage and inexperience she found them being fixed to her instead. Ranma valiantly attempted to escape her fate, but the souls followed the flow of the Shadow Weave that they had bound themselves to so fully. She could not push them away, even had she tried. For all their sins against her, they were hers. She roared in frustration, allowing her magic to run wild and free.

It tore up the sands and carved great gouges in the bedrock beneath the desert. An arcane, land-locked hurricane formed with her at its eye. The Great Desert was lashed for a hundred leagues in every direction with the fruits of her rage as she tried to evade the souls of the Shadovar that dogged her. She didn't care. Let the world know her pain. She couldn't bury it. She spared an instant for those few innocents she sensed in the path of the storm, plucking them free of the deadly storm and dropping them down in Providence with but a thought. The rest were abominations and cursed Netherese left overs that deserved their fates.

She shot higher in an attempt to outrun the hated souls that dogged her. Like bloodhounds with a scent they continued to pursue. She screamed in aggravation, and shot westward as fast as her wings would carry her, flying at speeds no mortal could truly comprehend. And still they followed, their speed increasing to match hers. She cried and screamed, she cursed and begged, and still they single-mindedly followed her.

It was over the mountains of the Spine of the World that they finally caught up to her. She fought their clinging and demanding presence, but in the end they won out – seeping into her being like a contact poison. The addition of their spiritual energy expanded her apotheosis by yet another order of magnitude; but she was unwilling to accept the gift. The explosion of power decimated a series of mountains, throwing them low.

Many of the orcish horde belonging to Obould Many-arrows within the mountains died that day, wiped from the world by the energy released or the mountains that fell upon them. Obould himself was dumbfounded at the width and breadth of the destruction. King Bruenor Battlehammer, deep within his Mithril Hall, gave thanks to Moradin that the cataclysm left his people relatively untouched.

/(0)\\\\\\

Silverymoon

Serenity woke screaming. The agony in her heart too intense to be ignored. Her very soul ached for their loss. She could feel his rage. They had killed Sefaril! They had tried to hurt the baby! Her baby! She reached out to the bassinet beside her bed and called Hotaru to her. She wouldn't let them hurt the baby. She wanted them to suffer! She gathered the spell, and with it their souls. NO! Something was wrong! They were pursuing her now! She felt the sickness of their tainted touch and looked for a place to run. She dodged and evaded. She bobbed and weaved, trying to put as much space between them as possible. She knew what they hungered for.

She had meant to bind them, and now they wanted to join with her; to become one with her! The audacity! The affront! NO! She wouldn't allow it!

The power gathered itself rapidly, burning in her veins and searing her bones. It was all Serenity could do to try and control the flow, let alone to stem it. She could see the multitudes swarming her and their fear barely registered through the haze of her anger. She curled around Hotaru protectively and snarled.

She could still see the demons laughing in gross anticipation of innocent blood, even as they died. Their pain and excitement turned her stomach – more than enough impetus to stretch forth her hand and silence them. She hated them and everything they represented. They were abominations and aberrations, even in a balanced world. The power lanced down her arms and collected in her palms as she glared hatefully in their dead faces.

Something changed in their countenance as she hovered there; some sick realization that this was the end of them. Yet, they pushed forward still. They would join wither her, whether she wanted it or not. The first sought to over taker her and she rejected them, rebuking them even as the rest swarmed. The sensation was sickening; cloyingly claustrophobic. She allowed her power to gather more and started to strike back – to obliterate them all, just as Aelin and the others had been destroyed. That sense of cruel vengeance shocked her more than anything else. How could she want that for another person, no matter how evil? She tried to pull the power back, to protect the millions of lives that her rage was about to end.

But it was too late. The power was already flying free.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"

The wall of her chambers exploded outward, a miniscule echo of the power that had been unleashed on a now dead city in the far east, and the simultaneous blast that was even now obliterating a mountain range not too far north of where she was standing. The voices of the damned were already making themselves known; whispering their empty pleas for forgiveness and mercy. Begging, clawing, demanding…

Serenity screamed in anguish and clutched Hotaru to her protectively. The baby wailed in fear and pain.

Alustriel and a full contingent of the Palace Guard, including some of the more prominent guests raced through the halls. She could hear Serenity's screams echoing through the now silent halls as surely as she had felt the explosive tremor of magic that had shaken the whole palace. Susan arrived at her side and both threw propriety to the four winds, hiking their skirts as high as they would go in their haste to give their charge the aid she was calling for. The girl's screaming was horrible, and her crying gut wrenching…as if she was beset by some unspeakable horror. Alassra and Storm joined the pair as they crossed into Serenity's apartments. She hovered above the melted flagstones of her room, the same flagstones that had been warded against dragon flame, and continued to scream herself hoarse. It was obvious that the world around her didn't exist. Her eyes stared at some distant terror that only she could see.

"Call the priests and tend any wounded. If there are any dead, she is not to know. Storm, the baby." Alustriel sped through the rubble as best she could and tried not to marvel at the destruction. When she reached the poor girl, she was trembling and mumbling.

"Fly!" She hissed. "Fly you fool! You must save the baby."

Alustriel couldn't tell whether she was speaking to her, or someone else.

"Serenity."

She approached tentatively and gently took her sister in her arms. Hotaru continued to wail. The moment she touched Serenity's skin the world went white as a million voices, damned and innocent alike brushed her mind. It took a small eternity for the world to right itself as Alustriel lifted herself from the debris on the floor. Storm was cradling Hotaru and breaking for the door. Those that accompanied Alustriel were already half way into the room, covering the bard's escape and coming to the aid of their queen.

She held up a hand to halt them as Serenity began screaming about the baby. Taern Hornblade looked ready to begin casting a spell, but the look she leveled at him killed the spell on his lips. Serenity was rocking herself and weeping. Alustriel could hear mumbled words tumbling from her lips and scooted closer to better make them out. Her eyes were not her own, and neither was her voice.

"…tried to kill the baby. They killed her and tried to kill the baby. Oh God. They're dead. Nothing left of them to call back. Have to protect…duty to protect. Have to save the baby." She snarled in a very ugly fashion and glared out the shattered remains of the wall to the East. "Deserved to die…evil bastards. Trying to kill my baby!"

Serenity wailed and pulled at her hair in despair before dropping her hands to her belly, just over her womb.

"My baby! My baby needs a womb! How can I have a baby?"

She grabbed Alustriel by the front of her dress and pulled the both of them to their feet. The sound of steel being drawn made Alustriel gesture angrily at the group near the door. There were cries of alarm as everyone save her sisters, Susan and Taern simply disappeared.

"I can't have a baby!" She desperately hissed in a very masculine voice.

"Why not?" Alustriel carefully took Serenity's face in her hands and began smoothing the girl's hair.

"Men can't have babies. Men don't have wombs! Have to be a man! A man among men!" Serenity began to shake Alustriel with a strength that was not her own. A silver glow danced around her body in a very disconcerting way. "Can't let the curse do this to me! But the baby needs a womb and I made a promise. A man keeps his promises. I have to be a man. A man among men! I AM A MAN! DO YOU HEAR ME? A MAN!" Alustriel found herself lifted clear off the floor, and barely noted Susan club Serenity upside the head.

Both women tumbled to the floor, but Serenity was not unconscious as she should have been. She simply wept into her hands and kept whispering to herself.

"All dead. All dead. A city full of dead people inside me. They're all dead."

"Leave us." Alustriel rubbed her baby sister's back gently, doing her best to soothe the girl's distress while trying to make sense of it at the same time.

"Are you certain my Lady?" Taern looked torn between obeying and separating his queen from this new threat.

"I SAID LEAVE!" There was no room for misinterpretation as a silver flame literally danced in Alustriel's eyes. Taern and the others fled from the room with all haste, leaving the Shining Lady to comfort the Silver Princess.

"All dead. All dead. A city full of dead people inside me. They're all dead."

/(0)\\\\\\

End Chapter 11


End file.
